In a long majestic line against the sky I see the massive squadron marching by— Great bristling palaces of triple steel, But riding smooth as coots upon the keel. Each of the score, a fortress all complete, Could hide old Jason's Argonauts and fleet. Ten thousand men they bear, with shot and shell Enough to storm old Satan's citadel. And see the clouds from vulcan chimneys rolled! A mountain chain in ebony and gold, That floats as graceful on the lingering dawn As tawny tresses of an Amazon. Green forests wave a welcome to our home, And eagles scream from old Sierra's dome. Let Shasta swing the Golden Gate and smile, While Lick shall flash the news to Luzon's Isle! For old Balboa's ocean never bore A pageant half so grand as this before; A thousand centuries she had to wait To see Columbia's fleet march by in state. Sail on! ye proud policemen of the deep, While safely now Pacific cities sleep. Sail on! Sail on! till navies sail no more— Till the dove of Peace shall reign on every shore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HONEYSUCKLE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TELLING THE BEES by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE SWISS EMIGRANT by LUCY AIKEN THE DREAM THAT CRACKED A WHIP by FRANCES AIRTH QUATORZAINS: 10. TO POESY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE COMING HUNS by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV |