Squadron, and ships were staid, the yards were manned, And furled the useless sail. The summer's gone, the winter's come, We sail not on mountain-dust, Or murmuring woods, or starlit clime, Or ocean with melodious chime, Or sunset glories in the same hand.] two American, two German, two French, several Russian, a Dutch, and an inventor's delight in it a long table where a triangle.