Classic Poem

As though the Power that made the Nautilus
A living glory o'er seas perilous
Scathless to roam, had from the utmost deep
Called a vast flawless pearl from out its sleep
And carv'd it crescent-wise, exceeding fair,—
So seems the crescent moon that thro' the air
With motionless motion glides from out the West,
And sailing onward ever seems at rest.