With Feet At The Fire
With feet at the fire, I am thinking of those birds
Which told Columbus that the land was nigh.
Water, water, water far as the sky.
At last a sailor shouted out these words:
'Land! Land!' The wind sang through the ropes. The crew
Fell on their knees. They saw beyond gainsaying
The New World's forests with their monkeys blue,
And heavy turtles on the sands were laying.
O when, like a sailor in his gladness crying,
Shall I upon the shore of sunshine leap
Of her hair scattered on her body lying,
Like a new island in the midst of sleep.