QUINQUIREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven through the Mediterranean waves.
Its powered by rows
of ill-used, ill-fed,
Overworked and sweat soaked Nubian slaves.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shore,
It's dropped off its cargo
Of slaves in Virginia,
Laden now with baccy it is coming back for more.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
It may not be romantic, but at least its slaves are waged.

(You can find Masefield's original easily on the web.)

Tuesday, March 04, 2003