Sail through, Ancon, most prophetic ship
Hastening from the heavy sobbing of blood-stained seas.
For thou art more than keel and hull,
Than armor bearer and a man freighted deck
Thou shoulds't be the Mayflower of the coming democracy of
the world.
* * * * *
Looking through the vista
Of this earth-rent canal--a telescope,
Mirroring a city in the western skys--
Clearer, clearer, clearer, becomes the vision
Of the alluring ideal halloed by a glowing sun.
Nearer, nearer, nearer doest thou sail,
Until now behold thou doest glide
Out onto the Pacific, secure in peaceful freedom.
Until the eastern war clouds being dispelled,
On, on, on thou canst sail into the haven of the essential
republic of the world.