Collected Poems Volume II Part 76

A KNIGHT OF THE OCEAN-SEA

Sir Humphrey Gilbert, hard of hand, Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea, Gazed from the rocks of his New Found Land And thought of the home where his heart would be.

He gazed across the wintry waste That weltered and hissed like molten lead,-- "He saileth twice who saileth in haste!

I'll wait the favour of Spring," he said.

_Ever the more, ever the more, He heard the winds and the waves roar!

Thunder on thunder shook the sh.o.r.e._

The yellow clots of foam went by Like shavings that curl from a s.h.i.+p-wright's plane, Clinging and flying, afar and nigh, Shuddering, flying and clinging again.

A thousand bubbles in every one s.h.i.+fted and s.h.i.+mmered with rainbow gleams; But--had they been planets and stars that spun He had let them drift by his feet like dreams:

Heavy of heart was our Admirall, For, out of his s.h.i.+ps--and they were but three!-- He had lost the fairest and most tall, And--he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.

_Ever the more, ever the more, He heard the winds and the waves roar!

Thunder on thunder shook the sh.o.r.e._

Heavy of heart, heavy of heart, For she was a galleon mighty as May, And the storm that ripped her glory apart Had stripped his soul for the winter's way;

And he was aware of a whisper blown From foc'sle to p.o.o.p, from windward to lee, That the fault was his, and his alone, And--he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.

"Had he done that! Had he done this!"

And yet his mariners loved him well; But an idle word is hard to miss, And the foam hides more than the deep can tell.

And the deep had buried his best-loved books, With many a hard-worn chart and plan: And a king that is conquered must see strange looks, So bitter a thing is the heart of man!

And--"Who will you find to pay your debt?

For a venture like this is a costly thing!

Will they stake yet more, tho' your heart be set On the mightier voyage you planned for the Spring?"

He raised his head like a Viking crowned,-- "I'll take my old flag to her Majestie, And she will lend me ten thousand pound To make her Queen of the Ocean-sea!"

_Ever the more, ever the more, He heard the winds and the waves roar!

Thunder on thunder shook the sh.o.r.e._

Outside--they heard the great winds blow!

Outside--the bl.u.s.tering surf they heard, And the bravest there would ha' blenched to know That they must be taken at their own word.

For the great grim waves were as molten lead --And he had two s.h.i.+ps who sailed with three!-- "And I sail not home till the Spring," he said, "They are all too frail for the Ocean-sea."

But the trumpeter thought of an ale-house bench, And the cabin-boy longed for a Devons.h.i.+re lane, And the gunner remembered a green-gowned wench, And the fos'cle whisper went round again,--

"Sir Humphrey Gilbert is hard of hand, But his courage went down with the s.h.i.+p, may-be, And we wait for the Spring in a desert land, For--_he is afraid of the Ocean-sea_."

_Ever the more, ever the more, He heard the winds and the waves roar!

Thunder on thunder shook the sh.o.r.e._

He knew, he knew how the whisper went!

He knew he must master it, last or first!

He knew not how much or how little it meant; But his heart was heavy and like to burst.

"Up with your sails, my sea-dogs all!

The wind has veered! And my s.h.i.+ps," quoth he, "They will serve for a British Admirall Who is Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea!"

His will was like a North-east wind That swept along our helmless crew; But he would not stay on the _Golden Hynde_, For that was the stronger s.h.i.+p of the two.

"My little s.h.i.+p's-company, lads, hath pa.s.sed Perils and storms a-many with me!

Would ye have me forsake them at the last?

They'll need a Knight of the Ocean-sea!"

_Ever the more, ever the more, We heard the winds and the waves roar!

Thunder on thunder shook the sh.o.r.e._

Beyond Cape Race, the pale sun splashed The grim grey waves with silver light Where, ever in front, his frigate crashed Eastward, for England and the night.

And still as the dark began to fall, Ever in front of us, running free, We saw the sails of our Admirall Leading us home through the Ocean-sea.

_Ever the more, ever the more, We heard the winds and the waves roar!

But he sailed on, sailed on before._

On Monday, at noon of the third fierce day A-board our _Golden Hynde_ he came, With a trail of blood, marking his way On the salt wet decks as he walked half-lame.

For a rusty nail thro' his foot had pierced.

"Come, master-surgeon, mend it for me; Though I would it were changed for the nails that amerced The dying thief upon Calvary."

The surgeon bathed and bound his foot, And the master entreated him sore to stay; But roughly he pulled on his great sea-boot With--"The wind is rising and I must away!"

I know not why so little a thing, When into his pinnace we helped him down, Should make our eyelids p.r.i.c.k and sting As the salt spray were into them blown,

But he called as he went--"Keep watch and steer By my lanthorn at night!" Then he waved his hand With a kinglier watch-word, "We are as near To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"

_Ever the more, ever the more, We heard the gathering tempest roar!

But he sailed on, sailed on before._

Three hundred leagues on our homeward road, We strove to signal him, swooping nigh, That he would ease his decks of their load Of nettings and fights and artillery.

And dark and dark that night 'gan fall, And high the muttering breakers swelled, Till that strange fire which seamen call "Castor and Pollux," we beheld,

An evil sign of peril and death, Burning pale on the high main-mast; But calm with the might of Gennesareth Our Admirall's voice went ringing past,

Clear thro' the thunders, far and clear, Mighty to counsel, clear to command, Joyfully ringing, "We are as near To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"

_Ever the more, ever the more, We heard the rising hurricane roar!

But he sailed on, sailed on before._

And over us fled the fleet of the stars, And, ever in front of us, far or nigh, The lanthorn on his cross-tree spars Dipped to the Pit or soared to the Sky!

'Twould sweep to the lights of Charles's Wain, As the hills of the deep 'ud mount and flee.