WORN OUT.
I PASSED a boat today on the shore,
That will be launched on the sea no more.
Worn and battered the straight keel bent,
The side like a ruined rampart rent;
Left alone with no covering,
For who would steal such a useless thing!
It was shapely once, when the shipwright's hand
Had laid each plank as the master planned;
And it danced for joy on the curling wave,
When first the sea's broad breast it clave;
And it felt the pulse of the well-timed stroke,
That rang on the hole-pin of tuneful oak.
Oft has it carried home the spoil
Of fishers, tired with nightlong toll;
And often, in summer days, it knew
The laugh of a pleasure-seeking crew;
Or launched by night on the blinding waves,
It has rescued a life from the sea's dark caves.
It is useless now, as it lies on the beach,
Drawn high beyond the billow's reach;
And none of all it has served in stress
Remember it now in its loneliness