The Yacht.

White as the down on a seagull's soft breast,
Swift as the flash of its wing;
Light as the thistledown borne by the breeze,
Free as the waves, as they fling
Spray to the winds, in a rainbow of light;
Fearless and graceful and gay,
Proud of her beauty, this Queen of the Seas.
Skims on her wide ocean way.
Winds tear her canvas and scream througn the ropes,
Waves rise and crash on her bow;
Mid quiet waters of sunshine she dreams,
Sailing in tranquil seas now.
O'er every ocean, within every port,
Ever she sails on her quest,
Seeking the haven where sailing ships go,
Far in the heart of the west.

—C.A.L.

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