The joy of leaping waves upon the sea.

OLD BOATS

I saw the old sea captain in his city daughter's house,

Shaved till his chin was pink, and brushed till his hair was flat,

In a broadcloth suit and varnished boots and a collar up to his ears.

(I'd seen him last with a slicker on and a tied down oilskin hat.)

And it happened that I went home last June, and saw in Mallory's yard

The old red dory that sprung a leak a couple of years ago,

Dragged out of good salt water and braced to stand in the grass