Then nearer and nearer yet
To the sea in a golden fret,
On the dikes where the houses end,
The trees to the sea-breeze that bend;
With their baptismal names anchored here,
In the rivers to which they are dear,
The vessels my harbour loves best,
Clustered, a choir, at their rest.
Now in their festivity,
I salute you, _Anna-Marie,_
Who seem in your white sails to bear
Cherubs that flit through the air;
And with joy that I scarcely can speak
I see you again, _Angelique,_
You with no shrouds on your mast,
Safe returned from Iceland at last.
But now, like _Gabrielle_, sing
Your new sails smooth as a wing,
And weep no more, _Madeleine,_
For your nets you have lost on the main,
Since all are pardoned, even
The wind, for kisses given,
So that in kisses and glee
These visiting billows may be
Content with the homage they pay,
High the sea, to sing the May.