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| THE TRANSPORTS move stealthily to sea— | |
| The sea so prone to take strange freightage eagerly— | |
| But this sad freightage even the sea disowns | |
| And lifts its storms and frowns in darker mood | |
| And never was a cargo more adrift … | 5 |
| There are no ports, no country’s flag, no waiting hands | |
| In any land on earth for it. | |
| Nor any home to take it in. | |
| And all the prisons are too proud. | |
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| O Mayflower! Ships of Columbus! | 10 |
| And frigates and vessels of wood and of steel, | |
| With your cargoes of gifts and your graces! | |
| O swift laughing sails like fluttering garments of girls | |
| Running down soft green slopes | |
| To a dance with their lovers at Fair time! | 15 |
| O all the brave prows that advance to these shores | |
| Like believers to the rail at communion! | |
| Be blind! Turn away from-those ships, from those spectres, | |
| Do not think these the cargoes we send out from our shores, | |
| These of the darkness, in the night, in secrecy, | 20 |
| Under sealed orders! | |
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| O Liberty! Mother! with your head proudly erect | |
| And your regal brow confident | |
| And your uplifted arm | |
| Hailing far children of earth to your sheltering; | 25 |
| O Liberty! Mother who nurses back to full strength | |
| The offspring of breasts that are empty, | |
| Who gives and who trusts and who welcomes in limitless trusting! | |
| Do not look down at these ships as they pass— | |
| Purring like cats that are clawing their kill— | 30 |
Oh, do not notice!
The New York Sun | |
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