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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420792" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ship-Builders</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE sky is ruddy in the east,<br>The earth is gray below,<br>And, spectral in the river-mist,<br>The ship's white timbers show.<br>Then let the sounds of measured stroke<br>And grating saw begin;<br>The broad-axe to the gnarlëd oak,<br>The mallet to the pin!<br>Hark! roars the bellows, blast on blast,<br>The sooty smithy jars,<br>And fire-sparks, rising far and fast,<br>Are fading with the stars.<br>All day for us the smith shall stand<br>Beside that flashing forge;<br>All day for us his heavy hand<br>The groaning anvil scourge.<br>From far-off hills, the panting team<br>For us is toiling near;<br>For us the raftsmen down the stream<br>Their island barges steer.<br>Rings out for us the axe-man's stroke<br>In forests old and still;<br>For us the century-circled oak<br>Falls crashing down his hill.<br>Up! up! in nobler toil than ours<br>No craftsmen bear a part:<br>We make of Nature's giant powers<br>The slaves of human Art.<br>Lay rib to rib and beam to beam,<br>And drive the treenails free;<br>Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam<br>Shall tempt the searching sea!<br>Where'er the keel of our good ship<br>The sea's rough field shall plough;<br>Where'er her tossing spars shall drip<br>With salt-spray caught below;<br>That ship must heed her master's beck,<br>Her helm obey his hand,<br>And seamen tread her reeling deck<br>As if they trod the land.<br>Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak<br>Of Northern ice may peel;<br>The sunken rock and coral peak<br>May grate along her keel;<br>And know we well the painted shell<br>We give to wind and wave,<br>Must float, the sailor's citadel,<br>Or sink, the sailor's grave!<br>Ho! strike away the bars and blocks,<br>And set the good ship free!<br>Why lingers on these dusty rocks<br>The young bride of the sea?<br>Look! how she moves adown the grooves,<br>In graceful beauty now!<br>How lowly on the breast she loves<br>Sinks down her virgin prow!<br>God bless-her! wheresoe'er the breeze<br>Her snowy wing shall fan,<br>Aside the frozen Hebrides,<br>Or sultry Hindostan!<br>Where'er, in mart or on the main,<br>With peaceful flag unfurled,<br>She helps to wind the silken chain<br>Of commerce round the world!<br>Speed on the ship! But let her bear<br>No merchandise of sin,<br>No groaning cargo of despair<br>Her roomy hold within;<br>No Lethean drug for Eastern lands,<br>For poison-draught for ours;<br>But honest fruits of toiling hands<br>And Nature's sun and showers.<br>Be hers the Prairie's golden grain,<br>The Desert's golden sand,<br>The clustered fruits of sunny Spain,<br>The spice of Morning-land!<br>Her pathway on the open main<br>May blessings follow free,<br>And glad hearts welcome back again<br>Her white sails from the sea!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420792" data-title="The Ship-Builders de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="THE sky is ruddy in the east,
The earth is gray below,
And, spectral in the river-mist,
The ship's white timbers show.
Then let the sounds of measured stroke
And grating saw begin;
The broad-axe to the gnarlëd oak,
The mallet to the pin!
Hark! ro..."></div>
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