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C J Dennis - Last Landfall
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"Outgoing: the Ooonah for Burnie"....
   How often the radio spoke;
Till the stout little ship and her journey
   Grew into a mild sort of joke.
But no longer her donkeyman grapples
   His slings by the sweet island shore
For a cargo of timber or apples.
   The Oonah goes sailing no more.
 
No more; save the landfall she`s making,
   The last, on her funeral trip
To the land where she goes for her breaking --
   Grim graveyard of many a ship.
And a few, it may be, will go grieving
   To know of that busy craft`s fate,
Who many times hooved with her heaving
   As Oonah rolled over the strait.
 
There many proud, tall-masted schooners
   She passed in the night, ships o` sail;
While stars winked o`er fond honeymooners
   Who whispered soft words by her rail.
And tourists and grave politicians,
   Who knew the old Oonah full well,
In all sorts of weather conditions,
   Have had many a story to tell.
 
And many a soul who sailed with her,
   Since Oonah first breasted the foam,
Has taken the long voyage thither,
   To every man`s ultimate home.
Who knows now what mystical journey
   Those sail, to the sounds of high mirth
As a ghost-ships heads hull-down for Burnie,
   With a complement not of the earth.
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