YOUTH by WILBERT SNOW

The old men talked of Barney's place
Two miles or so away,
Near a gray, half-tumbled wharf whose face
Abutted on the bay:
There Barney sold big jugs of rum
Before my dog was born,
And there gay sailors used to come
And dance and drink till morn.

They talked of Shepherd's Island four
Or five miles up the reach,
Where the squire shipped each May a score
Of lambs to roam the beach:
The older boys hauled up the sail
On a pinkey painted blue,
And left me standing sadly pale,
Too young to join the crew.

And since those yarns Bohemian ease,
With dancing, wit, and wine,
And voyages from Arctic seas
To Egypt have been mine:
But never has Parisian flair
Yet challenged Barney's style
Successfully, nor landscapes fair
Flash glints like Shepherd's Isle.

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