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The Merchant
by [?]

Where sails the ship?–It leads the Tyrian forth
For the rich amber of the liberal north.
Be kind, ye seas–winds, lend your gentlest wing,
May in each creek sweet wells restoring spring!–
To you, ye gods, belong the merchant!–o’er
The waves his sails the wide world’s goods explore;
And, all the while, wherever waft the gales
The wide world’s good sails with him as he sails!