A long scream's tearing the air. People are rushing onto the steamship. They are going to the land of dream, full of fine wine and satin. I,too, had a dream, which inspired me to come to this sea with a small boat and simple oars. I stare at the endless blue. "Come," they yell, "you'll miss the trip!" The flank of the vessel flashes brightly, as glittery as the place they will be in. Wondering at the astray me, I feel puzzled and lonely. I know not what's behind the bluish velvet slipping slowly toward the distant azure. I have but these very hands, and a dauntless vision yet be proved wise. Their laughters sailed away. Let me, then, push this hard into the water. --

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