THE SHIP AND HER MAKERS.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 885, 11 December 1916, Page 6

THE SHIP AND HER MAKERS.

THE WORKERS. We tore the iron from the mountain'* hold. By blasting fires we smithied it to steel; Out of the shapeless stone we learned to mould The sweeping bow, the rectilinear keel; We hewed the pine to plank, we split the fir, We pulled the myriad flax to fashion her. Out of a million lives our knowledge came, A million subtle craftsmen forged the means; Steam was our handmaid, and our servant flame. Water our strength, all bowed to our machines; Out of the rock, the tree, the springing herb. We built this wandering beauty so superb, THE SAILORS. We, who were born on earth and live by air, Make this thing pass across the fatal floor, The speechless sea ; alone we commune there Jesting with death, that everopen door. Sun, moon, and stars are signs by which we drive This wind blown iron like a thing alive. THE SHIP. I march across great waters like a queen, I whom so many wisdoms helped to make; Over the uncruddled billows of seas green I blanch the bubbled highway of my wake. By me the wandering tenants clasp the hands, And know the thoughts of men in other lands. —John Masefield.