Home Port Inn in Lubec, Maine

A small town on the end
Of the coastline -- as it wends out to the sea --
Like some giant outstretched hand
Seeking Campobello land constantly.

A small town on the shore
With its people -- a few score, at the most.
All are known by their first name
And take pride in their fame as a host.

A small town on the hill
With its churches -- white and still over all.
With their spires -- heaven bent
That to many a sailor's meant 'Stand or fall.'

A small town on the bay
Where the fishes flash and play in the waves.
Where there is great ebb and flow
Of the ocean as it goes down to Dave's.

A small town on the coast
Where the weirmen yearly boast of their take.
Where the work's from spewing to fall
And the fish determine all -- make or break.

A small town by the mere
Where the sight of fog in the air brings no frown.
And the foghorn at the Head
Lulls the native in his bed snuggled down.