81. HYMN TO THE NEW KING
Come let us sail away,
let’s fill our sails with wind
toward the morning sun.
Let the briny deeps of the sea
raise white fingers
to caress my ship’s bow.
Sing, ye maidens waiting
on the shore, the glories of
Helen, & of your newfound king.
Our fathers’ heavybearded
faces stare out from the waves
nodding solemn assent
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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