Boats In A Fog

Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers,

The exuberant voices of music,

Have charm for children but lack nobility; it is bitter

That makes beauty; the

Knows, grown adult.                                A sudden fog-drift muffled the ocean,

A throbbing of engines moved in it,

At length, a stone's throw out, between the rocks and the vapor,

One by one moved

Out of the mystery, shadows, fishing-boats, trailing each

Following the cliff for guidance,

Holding a difficult path between the peril of the

And the foam on the shore granite.

One by one, trailing their leader, six crept by me,

Out of the vapor and into it,

The throb of their engines subdued by the fog, patient andcautious,

Coasting all round the

Back to the buoys in Monterey harbor.

A flight of

Is nothing lovelier to look at;

The flight of the planets is nothing nobler; all the arts lose

Against the essential

Of creatures going about their business among the

Earnest elements of nature.