This was sailing

   


   





   

   Look, now Excellence
   Honors Aeacus' island,
   Harbor of fame,
   And steers his town
   In the roads of Glory
   Glad for wreaths,
   And sound Order
   With solemn rites,
   Who wards in peace
   The cities of reverent men.

We are nothing; less than nothing,

and dreams. We are only what might

have been, and must wait upon the

tedious shores of Lethe millions

of ages before we have existence

and a name.

Bacchylides

Complete Poems

  Nemean Ode for Pytheas

  of Aegina (Pancratium)

  [fragment]

Robert Fagles, translation

450 BC

op. cit.

Charles Lamb

Elia

  Dream-Children:

  A Reverie

1822

op. cit.

  Intrepid, NYYC

  Defender of America's Cup

  1967 and 1970