With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
A goodly vessel did I then espy
Come like a giant from a haven broad,
And lustily along the bay she strode,
Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
This ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a lover's look --
This ship to all the rest did I prefer!
When will she turn, and whither? She will brook
No tarrying -- where she comes the winds must stir! --
On went she, and due north her journey took.
- William Wordsworth