A SHIP with cargo laden to the guards
Has come to port! Lo, how her masts and spars
Above the kindling clouds begin to lift,
And her great peak has dashed the skies with light!
For all on earth she brings a royal gift,
More precious than was ever sung by bards.
Her hold is stuffed with incense and with myrrh,
And round her clings a fragrance and a scent
Of Thule or some distant Orient,
With whiffs of a diviner air, the swift
Sidereal blast that bore her from the stars.
The woods and hills rejoice to welcome her,
As though she bore to earth some envoy or
Some God-accredited ambassador,
Sent hither from beyond the Pleiades.
Near and more near she draws ! The heavens grow bright
With her approach! Lo, in what vessel-yards
Were her stout timbers hewn ? What workman laid
Her starry frame ? What fearless pilot weighed
Her anchor, steered her through the chartless seas ?

William Prescott Foster.