The People's Fleet

OUT of her darkened fishing-ports they go,
A fleet of little ships, whose every name -

Daffodil, Sea-lark, Rose
and
Surf
and
Snow,

Bums in this blackness like an altar-flame;

Out of her past they sail, three thousand strong,
The people's fleet that never knew its worth,
And every name is a broken phrase of song
To some remembered loveliness on earth.

There's
Barbara Cowie, Comely Bank
and
May,

Christened, at home, in worlds of dawn and dew :
There's
Ruth
and
Kindly Light
and
Robin Gray,

With
Mispah.
(May that simple prayer come true!)

Out of old England's inmost heart they sail,
A fleet of memories that can never fail.