Remembered Dates

Two waifs upon the vasty deep
Borne on by the resistless sweep
Of billows, whitening as they roll,
We journey toward the western goal.
Our colors, the red white and blue—
Proclaim us loyal, tried and true
My blue eyes with their tender light,
Red lips and cheeks, and tresses white—
Between us shared, but loveliest thine,—
Are symbols in our hammered sign.

Now side by side we sail the seas
With pennons fluttering in the breeze,—
Now parted by an adverse tide
With only faithful stars to guide,
Or that one compass, every just,
The golden law of mutual trust.
At intervals along our flight
A lettered rock looms up in sight
Where we may read, with date and name
Where one went here or when he came—
Our birthdays, wedding days, and all,
Or garrulous Time, old details, writs
For gossip mortals to recite.

One record, o’er the weltering brine
Reads “26th” and that is mine;
Another, that I reach full soon
Is “28th” of Ella’s moon;
The dates below them are submerged
By billows from my swift keel urged
We pass the tell-tale monuments
With greetings brief for their events
And words of tenderness to tell
That love and faith do all things well;
And when at whiles we drift afar
Below th’ horizons purple bar
Our signals waving down the coast,
Proclaim a fellowship unlost.

Sail on, oh lovely Voyager sail!
With summer breeze or Autumn gale
Not far away my flag shall plant,
Or wat a sign from seas remote;
We’ll meet and pass of veering keel
And dip our pennons as we wheel.
Firm be they hand upon the helm
That no swift blast may overwhelm;
Be keen thy glances toward the skies
That no unnoted flaw may rise.
And sharply scan the reefs and shoals
That often wreck unwary souls;
And when my battered keel goes down
Beyond the westering shadows brown,
Hold bravely on; we’ll meet once more
Safe sheltered on a stormless shore.

Fair Traveler on Life’s sea sublime
Be not the cheated dupe of time,—
Grey Time, the mockery-phantom, fleet
That rules the headless through deceit.
The years that seem to hurry by
Are anchored isles, and cannot fly.
Their up-flung shapes[?], or green or gray,
But mark the leagues that stretch away
Between us and the golden Isles
Where everlasting summer smiles;
We pass them, and they disappear,
Pale shadows in a weltering sphere.
We look not back, but toward the vast
Behold the Islands of the Blest
That lift their emerald mountains kiss’d
By sunsets molten Amethyst,
And thither turn our harken[?], to cast
Firm anchors in that haven, at last!
While days that mark our mortal birth
Are but dim memories of Earth!