History: When

Historically, sailors have felt free of a myriad of ills once they were clear of land. While the sea may hold its own dangers, nothing there was untenable. A sailor can deal with things at sea; by land he is often quite literally a fish out of water. Thomas Flemming Day understood that thoroughly and his poem, When, reflects that understanding. When I read it, which is frequently, I think not only of my own love for the sea but of the generations before me who shared that delight. And so, for your enjoyment of a Monday morning, I give you When:


When western winds are blowing soft, Across the Island Sound; When every sail that draws aloft, Is swollen true and round; When yellow shores along the lee, Slope upward to the sky; When opal bright the land and sea, In changeful contact lie; When idle yachts at anchor swim, Above a phantom shape; When spires of canvas dot the rim, Which curves from cape to cape; When seaweed strewn the ebbing tide pours eastward to the main; When clumsy coasters side by side, Tack in and out again – When such a day is mine to live, What has the world beyond to give?

Header: U.S. Frigate Congress by Christopher Blossom