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.