Benjamin Collins Woodbury

To John Paul Jones

Within these walls, here oft you weary strove.
From out this Town, historic in its name
Went Ranger forth to battle scars and fame --
Triumphant task. Doth oft your spirit rove
Beyond the bounds where silent anchor hove,
In sailing sea, in ship of noble frame,
To refuge seek in harbor whence you came
And solace find in Time's eternal grove?

Think not the agile Shape I dimly see
Flecking the twilight shapes with hidden fears, --
This sturdy form would startle such as me.
I wonder if your soul, amid the years,
Has not "begun to fight" your name to free,
Your face unveil, from out its mist of tears?



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