Give all my love to ages past,
To times of wealth and wonder;
To adventurers, to lands unmapped,
To pirate's loot and plunder.
Tell history to wait for me,
Though I am far and gone—
There's one path left for me to take
Before my journey's done.
I sailed these skies once like a king,
In search of gold and glory,
My body strong, mind clear and sharp,
Pursuing airship quarry.
Alone, I flew the seven seas
And countless distant lands;
Mount Kailash and the Himalays,
The cruel Saharan sands.
It was the world of yesteryear,
With mountains white and wide—
With deserts shifting, sun ablaze
Which beat my weathered hide;
With ruins swallowed up by sand
And skies of high azure,
With tribes unknown and jungles deep,
With monoliths and moors.
Alas, the past's a quiet thing,
She ne'er speaks more than once;
The shining world I once knew
Has vanished into dust.
The clouds, once gold as angel's hair,
Now glower black with coal;
Below, a city indifferent, grim,
In fog as thick as wool.
There's no need for explorers now,
The world's travelled through—
The map is drawn, the trails trod,
The wilderness subdued.
This thirst that racks my body so!
—'Tis not for drink I yearn;
For maps undrawn, for distant lands,
With wanderlust, I burn.
My bones are old and long for rest,
Yet I am far from done—
What I would give for one last sight
Of rising desert sun.
Tell industry to keep her steel,
Her coal and science grim:
I'm from a place of gold and ghosts,
Of brass and seraphim.
My ship has lost her war with time—
She's battered, bow to stern;
Her journey's done, save one last flight
From which we shan't return.
I have no need of men or fuel,
Nor compass, spyglass, map;
By sun and star we'll sail and fall,
The East wind at our back.
Now sails are raised, the rigging's taut,
The engines rumble low;
Tell history to wait for me—
We'll meet in sun aglow.
