Shrouds and sails in silken sunlight flowing,
Gleaming and shimmering from silvern into golden,
With the sea-winds through the sunlit spaces blowing.
As I came down to South Street by the glimmering, tossing water, the sweet wind blew, oh, softly, sweetly blew
O’er the lean, black docks piled high with curious bales,
Odorous casks, and bundles, of foreign goods,
And all the long ships with their fair, tall sails,
Lading the winey air with the spices of alien woods.
As I came down by the winding streets to the wondrous green sea-water, the sounds along the water-front were tuned to fine accord;
I heard the racket of the halliards slapping,