FIVE DEGREES SOUTH

I love all waves and lovely water in motion,

That wavering iris in comb of the blown spray:

Iris of tumbled nautilus in the wake's commotion,

Their spread sails dipped in a marmoreal way

Unquarried, wherein are greeny bubbles blowing

Plumes of faint spray, cool in the deep

And lucent seas, that pause not in their flowing

To lap the southern starlight while they sleep.

These I have seen, these I have loved and known:

I have seen Jupiter, that great star, swinging

Like a ship's lantern, silent and alone

Within his sea of sky, and heard the singing

Of the south trade, that siren of the air,

Who shivers the taut shrouds, and singeth there.