—and a semicircle of dirt colored men
about a fire bursting from an old
—and the worn,
blue car rails (like the sky!)
gleaming among the cobbles!
—and the rickety ferry-boat “Arden”!
What an object to be called “Arden”
among the great piers,— on the
ever new river!
“Put me a Touchstone
at the wheel, white gulls, and we'll
follow the ghost of the Half Moon
to the North West Passage—and
(at Albany!) for all that!”
Exquisite brown waves—long
circlets of silver moving over you!
enough with crumbling ice-crusts among you!
The sky has come down to you,
lighter than tiny bubbles, face to
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