In memory of Mary Sheldon Barnes

" And nowe being here mored in Port Desire. "

Ho, the White Pinnace! the foam-white Pinnace!
Blithe and free as the sea-gull's wing!
A-leap to discover the dim seas over
Lovelier lands than the poets sing.

Ho, the White Pinnace! the joy-bright Pinnace!
The blue wave creams at her eager blow.
'Tis well with the sail that hears her hail
And sees her pass like a flight of snow.

Ho, the White Pinnace! the dove-white Pinnace!
Tender for rock and fragile for gale!
Her Indies rise where to mortal eyes
Is only the mid-sea moonshine pale.

Ah, the White Pinnace! the moonlight Pinnace!
Trembling from view in that strange white fire!
Yet mariners know, where God's tides flow,
And only there, lies Port Desire.