Unsailed

Now when I look back / On manhood's and on childhood's far-stretched track, / I see but a little child / In a green sunny world-home; there enisled / By another, cloudy world / Of unsailed waters all around him curled, / And he at home content / With the small sky of wonders over him bent […]

Fourscore years since, and come but one month more / The count were perfect of his mortal score / Whose sail went seaward yesterday from shore / To cross the last of many an unsailed sea.