Like a dry fish flung inland far from shore, 
There lived a sailor, warped and ocean-browned, 
Who told of an old vessel, harbor-drowned, 
And out of mind a century before, 
Where divers, on descending to explore 
A legend that had lived its way around 
The world of ships, in the dark hulk had found 
Anchors, which had been seized and seen no more.

Improving a dry leiure to invest 
Their misadventure with a manifest 
Analogy that he may read who runs, 
The sailor made it old as ocean grass-- 
Telling of much that once had come to pass 
With him, whose mother should have had no sons.