Classic Poem

The ships they pass and sink, and pass,
Like dreams upon the edge of sleep.
The thought of them is mine to keep
As a dim pool may bosom deep
The whiteness of a star that was.

The ships they sail into the skies
Across a bright eternity.
And here, — as at a bird set free,
The caged birds, — far out to sea
The windows stare with haggard eyes.