XLIII.
But still the marshes haunt me; still my thought
Returns upon their silence, there to brood
Till the significance of earth is brought
Back to my heart, and in a sturdier mood
I turn my eyes toward the distance dim,
And in the purple far infinitude
Watch the white ships sink under the sea-rim;
XLIV.
SOME bound for Flemish ports or Genovese,
Some for Bermuda bound, or Baltimore;
Others, perchance, for further Orient seas,
Sumatra and the straits of Singapore,
Or antique cities of remote Cathay,
Or past Gibraltar and the Libyan shore,
Through Bab-el-mandeb eastward to Bombay;
[XLV.]
And one shall signal flaming Teneriffe,
And the Great Captive's ocean-prison speak,
Then on beyond the demon-haunted cliff,
By Madagascar's palms and Mozambique,
Till in some sudden tropic dawn afar
The Sultan sees the colors at her peak
Salute the minarets of Zanzibar.