A Missing Ship.
When thou didst slip thy cable, and with pride
Of windfilled canvas curtsy to the shore
A white farewell, our reason half denied
The miracle thou wast, for custom more,
And more doth blind us. We, because it wore
Familiar features, scorned thy majesty;
And hadst thou won, as oft thou didst before
Thy haven in unchecked prosperity
We had not heeded, nor remembered thee.
But now! Oh phantom! where and what art thou?
In what strange realms of pale green mystery
Has ocean whelmed thee and thy masters now?
In some deep caverns, slumbrous with his breath
Perchance he holds thee, wrapped in tranquil death.
Agnes L. Storrie. Poems, J. W. Kettlewell, Sydney, 1909, page 245