And the stars above the mountains and the sea's eternal tune.

Only bags of stuffy nitrate from a far Pacific shore,

From a dreary West Coast harbour that I'll surely fetch no more;

Only bags of stuffy nitrate, with its faint familiar smell

Bringing back the ships and shipmates that I used to know so well;

Half a lifetime lies between us and a thousand leagues of sea,

But it called the days departed and my boyhood back to me.

C.F.S.


ROSES ALL THE WAY.