The Ships of Memory

By Frank Oliver Call

The silent ships of memory creep

Across the seas of long ago;

Like phantoms, on a tideless deep,

Their pale prows wander to and fro.

Some bear the dreams of happy years

Or bring a cargo all of gold;

Some bear a freight of useless tears,

For love and sorrow long untold.

And each man takes the proffered dower

For golden grain or bitter loss;

O, happy he that hath the power

To take the gold and leave the dross.