Classic Poem

When the man knew the ship he loved
Had melted to a lie
He fronted him upon his feet
As who should Gods defy —
Syllables choked not in his throat,
He met him eye to eye.

Refreshed was he through long forborne
Anger. His spirit swelled
Manful — the stronger in his grief
By all that he had quelled.

Seaman.

" This is your world-discovery!
This is the great landfall!
This coil of warehouses and quays
And taverns — this is all!

Well was it that we trusted thee!
Else — how had we achieved
Good luck? But then we had a friend
Wholly to be believed.

This is the country we have gained,
This land of milk and balm!
For this our innocent took wounds
And died without a qualm,
Drawn on as by a ghost, that ends
Like a catspaw in a calm!

Stay! I have heard, how in action's heat
A captain in his tent
Sealed a despatch; the rider died
That with the letter went;
The letter — saved — was found a blank!
Thine was the message sent,
Say, how wilt thou now make amends
For what was vainly spent? "

Fell off, fell off the enshrouding furs —
The beamwork of the room
To its last crevices was lit;
So terribly illume
The God's eyes — all his presence seemed
Outwardly to consume;

As though all burning sovranties
And throbbings of the mind,
Condensed into a single flame,
Across that board confined
Shot the human shade, a skeleton,
Clean on the wall behind
The man.

Apollo.

Ah, fragment of my soul,
When I invented thee
To utter Mind, as guest and mate
Of a voiceless family,

And gave thee selfhood, barred with sleeps,
On yon ship's heaving shelves,
Selfhood that never can contrive —
However lightning-like it strive —
To escape, in its inmost, deepest dive
My Self beneath your selves,

I built through demiurgie powers
Myriad human hopes and fears,
And laboured at this shipwright's task
A hundred thousand years.

Think'st thou I framed a vessel vain
As earthly ships of wood?
Or that thy voyage never was,
And wasted all your blood?
What! Hast not felt the invisible
Nor faintly understood?

Thou hast seen armies serve a name,
A rag, a tomb forlorn;
The tides of men obey a ghost,
The ghost of the unborn.

Thou hast felt passions' blindest roots
Quake up man's silly crust,
And rock thy reason from its state
And crack its towers to dust.

Thou hast seen Gods figure forth races,
Surging out of the vast
On crest of wave after wave, for aye
To sweep till time be past: —
Feel'st thou no wind behind those waves
All washing on one way?
Organs of the invisible
Yes, thou hast felt their sway!

Deem'st those old faceless images,
" Truth, " " Justice, " " Liberty, "
Heralding symbols thou employ'st?
They are employing thee!

Organs of the invisible
Yes, thou hast felt their sway,
The buried city of thy heart
Knows thou art less than they.

But now get back upon high seas
Unknown and drear indeed,
Thou, the adventure of my cloud,
The sailing of my seed!

Seaman.

" Lord, I confess the things unseen
Closer the fountain-head
Than this wood table in my grasp
Or yonder loaf of bread;
But must we, ever-living one,
Go out when we are dead?
When the arms that held us close and dear.
When the love that we are used
To mingle with, are wrenched away
And the body's kiss is loosed? "

The God smiled, and with 'haviour soft
Leaning across the wine
Heavily took those shoulders young
Into his grasp divine.

Apollo.

Hearken! I put you to the touch —
My son, my prodigal —
Since every brave song hath its close
Your own life, end it shall;
Yes, utterly shall meet an end.
Be it heroical!

And, born aboard, my rover stark,
Dread you to die aboard?
To lay you down beside your love
With the sunset on your sword?...