The Dream-Bearer

(Suggested by Ross Turner’s water-color, “The Golden Galleon.”)

From what far wonderland of dreams, What island of remotest seas, O Golden Galleon, sailest thou With white wings on the breeze?

Thou stately splendor, pressing on From mystic East to radiant West, On what proud errand art thou bent-- What high, mysterious quest?

The great sea bears thee up; the waves With slow upheaval lift thy bow; With long and steady sweep they glide Under thy gleaming prow.

Thy slender masts, like spires of jet, Are black against the reddening sky; Thy sails are full--yet idly droops Yon pennant lifted high.

All silently thou speedest on; No sailor climbs thy shining spars; Thy carven saints alone keep ward Beneath or sun or stars!

O Golden Galleon, well we know Thou hast no freight of earthly mould; No Orient treasures dost thou bear, No red gold lights thy hold!

Thou art but freighted with our dreams! Sail on, O blessèd ship, sail on, To some far land where dreams come true, And all that’s lost is won!