They look so bony. dearest place to live.
It is a land of oil, of corn and wine.
not milk; nor spring-time eggs. in spite of this,
nowhere in America will you find

more opulent gardens dragged up from the sea.
they say they burn their candles green and gold.
rocks thrown at creation's final day.
ye cannot breathe such clear, sunny cold.

Sacred To the Memory of JOHN,
lost overboard near 1836
To the Memory of ROBERT LONG,
towed out by a Whale in the Pacific

This Marble is here placed to CAPTAIN ZEKE,
killed by a Whale on the coast of Japan
his Memory is Shaking off the sleet
from my ice-glazed sideways solemn trance

because he was the one who could not read
those frigid trappings of unceasing grief