Whispers
What was it the wind said,
Blowing from the Orient
To the Cross on the hill,
And the fans of the Mill?
What was it the wind said,
Blowing at twilight,
To New England?
The wind that blew from the East
Blew dreamily,
A low song and strange song had the sea.
The Islanders sought each other’s eyes,
And young men dreamed enterprise;
Then sails put from the shores,
And wives stood alone at the doors;
For the old world, the strange world, called
To New England!
White sails stole out
On the silver sound,
They ran into storms
Outward bound;
They could not stay home
And they would not turn back,
For the Old World,
The dim world,
Called to New England!
Now, in the old house
Where the chimneys stretch wide,
Young wives talk by the fireside;
On the walls there is Delft,
And the lacquered trays,
Jades, teak and teapots,
Fans of gallant days;
China, tortoise and pearl,
Ivory carved like lace;
Chuddah, Cashmere, Sandal,
In some secret place....
And what say the young wives,
The frank young wives,
To the stranger’s face?
“No one guessed how they knew,
Nor what the wind said,
And the sailors are gone
And the merchants are dead;
But the toppling summer sea,
And the pale blue winter world,
Came often and oft again,
And the years like sails furled.
Men died on the ships
And were buried at sea,
Men languished on wild coasts,
Lost in mystery....”
“No one knows what was said
Nor what answered again,
When the wind blew a strange way,
The wind blew a new way,
For Nantucket men,
And the Old World called to New England!”