Ships and Stars
As soon as I began to name a star,
Or judge a ship by rigging, mast or spar,
I, seeing more with eyes than with my mind,
Had fears that I would soon go beauty blind.
But now, not caring if the ship that’s seen
Is schooner-rigged, a barque or brigantine,
I look beyond my eyes to where she rides
Under a rainbow, beautiful; or glides
Before the wind, on one side of her belly.
And as young lambs or sheep all white and woolley,
I see the stars in one flock nibbling go
Across the Heavens, whose names I will not know.