The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1916-10-19
"REAL SHIPS. /"

1.-THE DEEPwATER MAN" COMES BACK.
he was puzzled and bewildered
BY the changes which he found
In the wharf lines of our "Harbor'
AS he stood and gazed around;
After long spell of silence
fure disgust unsealed his lips
Hang it'll can't get my bearings:
what's become of all the ships?"
Where our old-time flush deck clippers
fankee-built and Yankee manned.
Jockeyed-five deep-for the service
VI quickened trades demand;
Now jam Of fore and afters"-
oea nogs-barges and what not;
Monster craft of bolted iron
Not square rig" in the lot.
Gone those lofty spared creations
flgntlng wind TANNERS who made
Big sail records-all have vanished
from the seas broad lanes of trade.
otauhcn nome. timbered "Temerarea"-
Merchant flyers" of the world:
Our queen clippers" of the "forties"
Steel-wrought hands your sails have fnr,ed
In your place now squats the product
VI subterranean slime;
Fostered by the "Imps of Darkness.
In the chambers Of the mine.
A mere thing Of pipes and tunnels
Moluses and invertebrates
As unfeeling-cold and lifeless-
AS Its burned-Out furnace CRATES
With the whine and plant of engines
Belching smoke and cinder spark
Just a monster boiler factory
Or machine shop on a lark
Creature of thousand windows
In jewel-like ellipse--
Gilden cattle pens for profit
Anything you please but ships.
Sealed hermetically--crowded
With dazed humanity
Just block of 'mixed" Manhattan
Blindly shutting thro' the sea.
Like some ruthless monster painting
Proudly its volcanic strength
There is naught to feed emotion
In that iron-plated length.
Twas the furnace man that built We.
Not the craftsman out of oak,
Who put heart and love and purpose
Into every good ak stroke
IT'S the bollermakers triumph
And the forge-pots sputterings
Killed the last shred of sea fancy
In these metal-sided things
AS you burned up lives to fashion
The frame of each numbering shell
So you ended all the "Romance"
OF the ships we loved SO we'll.
Can man lavish his affection
On insensate boited steel?
When its great heart is nder
Which can neither sense or feel?
But "Real Ships" your wild crews loved you
With that strength which kinship brings
And they idolized and knew you
To be pulsing, Giving" things
With the "Albatross" and Dolphin
The storm Petrel' and "Sea Gull'-
It's the quickening breath of tempests
Wakes life in each stray draped hull.
And like them you share common
Kindred care you drive
A mere silver in the Maelstrom,''
Yet the Great Deep" lets you live
With life vested-you can fathom
Seas eternal whisperings-
With its mystic love conversant
On thy wild adventurings
And the "Storm Kings" hoarse war sum-
At "Sea Sirens" low-voiced lay;
Held alike its vibrant meaning
For those "shps of yesterday"
Gone forever from the sky1ines
Those broad silhouetted yards
With their bullying stretch of canvas
To the "Haven of Dscards."
o brave keels!-for years we furrowed
Your path thro' seas sapphire plain
With its air borne sprites we doubled
The "Cspes" of thy great domain.
And I'm 'ad life still can summon
From past's rich memories
Reminders of those "Queenly Clippers"
Which for decades held the seas.
George c. Bugbee, in Attleboro Sun.