Across pale stars I soar, a giant arc,
And cover parsecs quicker than the eye
Can blink, and here, again, within the sky,
My masted ship like some celestial ark,
For all the world looks like the Cutty Sark,
Though it will sail to Venus by-and-by,
Or past huge dust clouds icy cold and dry
On to Algol where I will then debark.
Iíll sail to silver moons washed pale with foam
From methane oceans colder than my heart,
Iíll mark the many-spired pleasure dome
Where all my love was given to a tart
Who bid me love her, take her to my home.
I left, grew bored with all her artless art.