The Ocean Queen
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Excerpt from The Ocean Queen: And Other Poems
Laden with Fancy's half-blown blossomings,
And buds, (not "buds of promise" would they were, )
My fledgeling Muse's votive offerings, -
Fruits all unripe, selected with no care,
Plucked as they came to hand, - my bark doth dare,
The dangers of the wild unstable deep
Of public opinion: few are there
Who, when the gales of criticism sweep,
Its restless surface o'er, their sails aloft can keep.
No spars are her's, bedecked with flaunting pride,
Nought is there in her cargo to allure,
The Corsair of the literary tide,
That dread of vent'rous Authors, hight Reviewer!
Whose raking fire not many may endure,
And mine the least of any, may she sail
On, in her insignificance secure,
Nor be her progress stayed by that fierce hail,
At which the stoutest crew, and bravest captains quail.
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