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* * * * * WE were sailing by Triest, | |
| Where a day or two we harbored: | |
| A sunset was in the west, | |
| When, looking over the vessel’s side, | |
| One of our company espied | 5 |
| A sudden speck to larboard. | |
| And, as a sea-duck flies and swims | |
| At once, so came the light craft up, | |
| With its sole lateen sail that trims | |
| And turns (the water round its rims | 10 |
| Dancing, as round a sinking cup), | |
| And by us like a fish it curled, | |
| And drew itself up close beside, | |
| Its great sail on the instant furled, | |
| And o’er its planks a shrill voice cried | 15 |
| (A neck as bronzed as a Lascar’s), | |
| “Buy wine of us, you English brig? | |
| Or fruit, tobacco, and cigars? | |
| A pilot for you to Triest? | |
| Without one, look you ne’er so big, | 20 |
| They ’ll never let you up the bay! | |
| We natives should know best.” | |
| I turned, and “Just those fellows’ way,” | |
| Our captain said, “the ’long-shore thieves | |
| Are laughing at us in their sleeves.” | 25 |
| |
| In truth, the boy leaned laughing back; | |
| And one, half hidden by his side | |
| Under the furled sail, soon I spied, | |
| With great grass hat, and kerchief black, | |
| Who looked up, with his kingly throat, | 30 |
| Said somewhat, while the other shook | |
| His hair back from his eyes to look | |
| Their longest at us; then the boat, | |
| I know not how, turned sharply round, | |
| Laying her whole side on the sea | 35 |
| As a leaping fish does; from the lee | |
| Into the weather, cut somehow | |
| Her sparkling path beneath our bow; | |
| And so went off, as with a bound, | |
| Into the rose and golden half | 40 |
| Of the sky, to overtake the sun, | |
| And reach the shore, like the sea-calf | |
| Its singing cave; yet I caught one | |
| Glance ere away the boat quite passed, | |
| And neither time nor toil could mar | 45 |
| Those features: so I saw the last | |
| Of Waring!” * * * * * | |
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