Henry HudsonA Poem by getinthecarplease
Summer's frozen over,
but Hudson still clamors for that Northwestern Passage in his swaying shallop, on his misty bay. Discovery's ice-locked, but Hudson still hammers like a sea-roving savage in his swaying mind, on this endless day. The crew can't stand surveying the empty land anymore- so take your expedition to the shore. Old Cathay is a dream away and home is calling from this pewter moor. Mutineers vanish at horizon but Hudson still enamors with the glory of the passage on this swaying odyssey, in his misty bay. © 2024 getinthecarplease |
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