To a Dürer Drawing of Antwerp Harbour

Figured by Dürer's magic hand wast thou,That, lightning-like, traced on the lucid pageRough, careless lines, with wizardry so sageThat yet the whole was fair, I know not how:Ships of gaunt masts, and stark, sea-smitten prow,Idle, yet soon again to sweep the mainIn the swift service of old merchants' gain,Where are ye now, alas, where are ye now?Gone are ye all, and vanished very long,Sunk with great glory in the storied wars,Or conquered by the leaping breakers wild:And yet we love your image, like some songThat tells of ancient days and high, becauseOld Dürer looked upon you once and smiled.