O ye ho, boys! Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!

Patience, my mates! Though not this eve
We cast our anchor, yet believe,
If but the wind holds, short the run:
We 'll sail in with to-morrow's sun.
O ye ho, boys! Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!



JESSAMINE.

Here stands the great tree still, with broad, bent head,
And wide arms grown aweary, yet outspread
With their old blessing. But wan memory weaves
Strange garlands now amongst the darkening leaves.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.

Beneath these glimmering arches Jessamine
Walked with her lover long ago, and in
This moon-made shade he questioned; and she spoke:
Then on them both love's rarer radiance broke.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.

Sweet Jessamine we called her; for she shone
Like blossoms that in sun and shade have grown,