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Trade Winds

In the harbour, in the island, in the Spanish Seas,

Are the tiny white houses and the orange-trees,

And day-long, night-long, the cool and pleasant breeze Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

There is the red wine, the nutty Spanish ale,

The shuffle of the dancers, the old salt's tale,

The squeaking fiddle, and the soughing in the sail Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

And o' nights there's fire-flies and the yellow moon,

And in the ghostly palm-trees the sleepy tune Of the quiet voice calling me, the long low croon Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

From

LT

ER

MS

ND

DS, edited by John Masefield, published by The

Millan Co.,

NY, 1921, p. 54; first published in

ER

DS, © 1902.

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John Masefield

John Edward Masefield OM (/ˈmeɪsˌfiːld, ˈmeɪz-/; 1 June 1878 – 12 May 1967) was an English poet and writer, and Poet Laureate from 1930 until 19…

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