( 1 ) SAILBOATS

Light as thin-winged swallows pirouetting and gyrating,

The sails dance in the estuary:

Now heeling to the gust, now cantering,

Bobbing as shuttles back and forth from each other.

I They scorn the black steamers that steadily near them

I On a course direct, with white spume of smoke from their bows,

With snapping crash of breakers they fling themselves forward:

Black on the wing-tips, white on the underside.

These are the birds of the land breeze,

Nesting on green waves in the gold sunlight:

These are the sailships

Heeling and tossing about in the estuary.