The Clipper
by K. Tardif
Oh, fair she was to look on, as some spirit of the sea,
As she raced from China homeward, with her load of fragrant tea
And the shiny-swift bonita, and the white-winged albatross,
Claimed kinship with the clipper, beneath the Southern Cross.
Close hauled, with shortened canvas, swift and plunging, she would sweep
Through the gale that rose to bar her, wild pathway 'cross the deep
And before the gale blew over, half her drenched and driven crew,
To the tune of Ruben Ranzo, hoisted topsail-yards anew.
From the haven of the present, she has cleared & slipped away
Loaded deep, and running freely, for the port of yesterday
And the cargo that she carried, oh, it was not China tea
She took with her all the wonder, and the romance of the sea.
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