Poems-Volume 2
THE LAST CONTENTION

George Mer

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I

Young captain of a crazy bark!

O tameless heart in battered frame!

Thy sailing orders have a mark,

And hers is not the name.

II

For action all thine iron clanks

In cravings for a splendid prize;

Again to race or bump thy planks

With any flag that flies.

III

Consult them; they are eloquent

For senses not inebriate.

They trust thee on the star intent,

That leads to land their freight.

IV

And they have known thee high peruse

The heavens, and deep the earth, till thou

Didst into the flushed circle cruise

Where reason quits the brow.

V

Thou animatest ancient tales,

To prove our world of linear seed:

Thy very virtue now assails,

A tempter to mislead.

VI

But thou hast answer I am I;

My passion hallows, bids command:

And she is gracious, she is nigh:

One motion of the hand!

VII

It will suffice; a whirly tune

These winds will pipe, and thou perform

The nodded part of pantaloon

In thy created storm.

VIII

Admires thee Nature with much pride;

She clasps thee for a gift of morn,

Till thou art set against the tide,

And then beware her scorn.

IX

Sad issue, should that strife befall

Between thy mortal ship and thee!

It writes the melancholy scrawl

Of wreckage over sea.

X

This lady of the luting tongue,

The flash in darkness, billow's grace,

For thee the worship; for the young

In muscle the embrace.

XI

Soar on thy manhood clear from those

Whose toothless Winter claws at May,

And take her as the vein of rose

Athwart an evening grey.

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