for Ernest Hemingway <br /> <br />HEAP we these coppered hulls <br />With headed poppies <br />And garlic longed-for by the eager dead <br />Keep we with sun-caught sails <br />The westward ocean <br />Raise we that island on the sea at last <br />Steep to the gull-less shore <br />Across the sea rush <br />Trade we our cargoes with the dead for sleep.<br /><br />Archibald MacLeish<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/voyage-8/
