h Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,[A]
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
A goodly Vessel did I then espy 5
Come like a giant from a haven broad;
And lustily along the bay she strode,
Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.[B]
This Ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a Lover's look; 10
This Ship to all the rest did I prefer:
When will she turn, and whither? She will brook
No tarrying; where She comes the winds must stir:
On went She, and due north her journey took.[C]

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Compare _The Excursion_, book iv. l. 1197--

... sea with ships
Sprinkled ... ED.

[B] In the editions of 1815 to 1832 (but not in 1807) this line was
printed within inverted commas. The quotation marks were dropped,
however, in subsequent editions (as in the quotation from Spenser, in
the poem _Beggars_). In a note at the end of the volumes of 1807,
Wordsworth says, "From a passage in Skelton, which I cannot here insert,
not having the Book at hand."

The passage is as follows--

Her takelynge ryche, and of hye apparayle.

Skelton's _Bowge of Courte_, stanza vi.--ED.

[C] See Professor H. Reed's note to the American edition of _Memoirs of
Wordsworth_, vol. i. p. 335; and Wordsworth's comment on Mrs. Fermor's
criticism of this sonnet in his letter to Lady Beaumont, May 21,
1807.--ED.

"WHERE LIES THE LAND TO WHICH YON SHIP MUST GO?"

Composed 1806.--Published 1807

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?
Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
Festively she puts forth in trim array;[1]
Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow?
What boots the inquiry?--Neither friend nor foe 5
She cares for; let her travel where she may,
She finds familiar names, a beaten way
Ever before her, and a wind to blow.
Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark?
And, almost as it was when ships were rare, 10
(From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there
Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark,
Of the old Sea some reverential fear,
Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark!

VA