The Navy's in [unclear: To]

The eyes of Quay Street
Are on the grey toy berthing
Beside sets of dolls' house docks
The eyes of people on promenade [unclear: sc]
Finger this wooden horse
Pulled into the city by a tug.
Eyes of visitors
Gazing at lines of guns
Dominating the city.
Eyes of girls
Alive with prospects
Of the sweets of sailors.
All on a hot summer's afternoon
The water like burning oil
A city digests a monster
No blood runs on her decks,
Well out-ranged from reality of [unclear: co]
She has leaden thumped marsh [unclear: ban]
Only the self-conscious [unclear: demonstrato]
Mark her with any guilt
Thinly clustered by dock gates.
Captain Caesar will dispense [unclear: Circus]
And waiting hands of those are [unclear: ple]
Who dance the jig of death.

[unclear: Murr]