116

[Newspaper clipping]

The Anchor.
Here on the wharf I lie, idle and rust-
ing.
Scored with the scares of strife,
Wars that to win meant life;
Many a sailors wife
Gave, all unknowing, her heart to my
trusting.

Ofttimes the restless sea breezes
sweep o'er me,
In a familiar tongue
Singing the days I swung
From a stanch vessel slung,
Blue sky above and wide waters be-
fore me.

Many a mighty ship peacefully riding
Held I nor counted cost;
Fog-wrapped or tempest-tossed,
Never my grip I lost.
Never broke faith with my charges
confiding.

Here on the wharf I lie, home from the
ocean,
Never to plunge again,
Bearing my sturdy chain,
Down through the yeasty main --
Symbol unsullied of faith and devotion.
--Harold Willard Gleason in Youth's
Companion.