There is No Frigate…

These rustic yellow pages
Well loved, well aged,
Feel upon my fingertips
As old, old maps
Browned and smoothed
Showing the way to the end of the world
These thin and lovely pages
Bound all up in beauty
Seem to me as pearly white sails
Dancing in the wind
Waiting, just waiting
To carry me away
On the shining blue waters to the end of the world.

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