The Outlook from Santa Cruz

The ships are anchored in the bay,   
  The weary ships with haven won;   
Encompassed by the purple waves   
  Beneath the brilliant tropic sun!   
At last upon the summer sea,           
  Untossed, at rest, they quiet lie;   
In idle case, scarce darkened o’er   
  By fleecy clouds in azure sky!   
 
Far off upon the horizon’s verge   
  A white-sailed sloop speeds far from sight,           
Like some glad bird whose outspread wings   
  Cleave straight into the realms of light!   
It leaves behind the fair, green isle,   
  The waters rosy on the reef,   
To seek a shore, o’er ocean gray,           
  Where Winter withers bud and leaf!   
 
Like those moored vessels, worn with storms,   
  Now sheltered safe in harbor calm,   
We too repose through glowing days   
  Beneath the shadow of the palm!           
But ah! our thoughts are like the bark   
  That sweeps across the sounding main!   
Love wafted from bright, softer clime   
  To our own land of cold and rain!