PINKS Ob' FRONTENAOTh*' centuries have blown ihru your great limbsAnd flung them back Like a retreating race.Rut. you. despoiled, imperial, still faceThese northern waters of primeval blue.Watching forever at the island’s H*cadHike wraiths of tall rod chieftains long, long lt;iead.Whose wild war bonnets rattled once, like you.~—Kathryn White Ryan in Lho Now York Herald.