POETRY.
THE OULD HAS-BEEN.
ALL down by the harbour a. walking one day, I saw an old hulk by the wharf-side that lay, Her topmasts lopped off and her paint weathered bare, Red rust flaking off her and no one to care.
Then met I a manAtending lounging beside, Who scornful did speak as he spat in the tide : "There lies an ould has-been that once had the name Of a sea-going clipper, a clipper of fame.
Time was when her races with grain or with wool Were the talk of the crews 'tween Bombay and the Pool, When the tales of her sailing like wildfire did fly From Leith to Port Phillip, from Cork to Shanghai.
But now who's a glance for her, limping her round With coal for the ferries that ply on the Sound P And who that now sees her would know her the same Which once was a clipper, a clipper of fame P"
0 long I stood gazing then, sad to be told How ail men neglected her, now she grew old, And my heart just to see her with pity was sore For her, once so lovely, now lovely no more.
I marked the thick grime on her main deckforlorn1 I marked the poor masts of her woeful and shorn; And all of my thought was that sure it was shame To see such an end of that clipper of fame.
I thought of her sailing, so hopeful and proud, The dawn on her sails like a mountain of cloud, I thought of her battles, none stouter than she, With the strength and the rage of her rival the sea.
0 better the sea that so long she did use Should take her and break her as good ships would choose ! Some chance of the storm or some mercy of flame Should make a brave end of that clipper of fame, I thought of her captains, how once they would stand . So proud on the poop of their splendid command; And all the good sailormen, each in his day, That loved her and left her and passed on his way.
0 scattered the world through to-day they must be, And some sleeping sound in the deeps of the sea ; And some will be old men grown grizzled and lame That were lads like myself in that clipper of fame.
But no one can steal from those stubborn old sides The secrets she shares with the winds and the tides, , The tales that she tells of the sea and the sky To the weed and the gulls and the ships going by.
' And I took or my cap by the dingy wharf-side To the grace and the glory, the strength and the pride, Which all were her portion who once had the name, . In a day that's gone by, of a clipper of fame.
Q. -Fox SMITH.
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