POSTED AS MISSING

Under all her topsails she trembled like a stag,

The wind made a ripple in her bonny red flag;

They cheered her from the shore and they cheered her from the pier,

And under all her topsails she trembled like a deer.

So she passed swaying, where the green seas run,

Her wind-steadied topsails were stately in the sun;

There was glitter on the water from her red port light,

So she passed swaying, till she was out of sight.

Long and long ago it was, a weary time it is,

The bones of her sailor-men are coral plants by this;

Coral plants, and shark-weed, and a mermaid's comb,

And if the fishers net them they never bring them home.

It's rough on sailors’ women. They have to mangle hard,

And stitch at dungarees till their finger-ends are scarred,

Thinking of the sailor-men who sang among the crowd,

Hoisting of her topsails when she sailed so proud.