Shades of vessels that have passed
Rope and sail and yellow mast--
On the seafolks' town are cast;
And the Merking, startled by
Shadows in his crystal sky,
Calls the guard at palace gate,
Where he reigns in ancient state,
Sitting on a coral throne,
With sea-mosses overgrown--
Calls his guard to send a slave
Skyward, soaring thro' the wave,
To command the mariner
To move on. The messenger,
A dolphin bold,
With back of gold,
Swiftly cleaving, swirling, leaving
A flashing trail,
As from each scale
And finny tip
A silver spray of bubbles slip.
Higher, higher rises he,
Till from the surface of the sea
He leaps, and gloriously
Rolls his flashing coat of mail
In the splendor of the day.
Then the sailors trim the sail,
Knowing that the sprightly gale
Cometh when the dolphins play.
Haste away! Haste away!
For the breeze
Frets the seas,
And the rim of opal hue
Burns a green and flames a blue.