White and fair she moved on the wind,
With the speed of a greyhound, the Golden Hind,
She scudded along on a windward tack,
Making for heaven, the sky at her back,
She sailed unmanned, this ghost of a ship,
But for Captain Tom Paine, who vowed he’d come back.
For the sad Age of Reason, before the winds ran,
Searching the seas for the lost Rights of Man