Verses 1889-1896 Part 13

It was our war-s.h.i.+p _Clampherdown_, Swung round upon the tide, Her two dumb guns glared south and north, And the blood and the bubbling steam ran forth, And she ground the cruiser's side.

"Captain, they cry, the fight is done, They bid you send your sword."

And he answered, "Grapple her stern and bow.

They have asked for the steel. They shall have it now; Out cutla.s.ses and board!"

It was our war-s.h.i.+p _Clampherdown_ Spewed up four hundred men; And the scalded stokers yelped delight, As they rolled in the waist and heard the fight Stamp o'er their steel-walled pen.

They cleared the cruiser end to end, From conning-tower to hold.

They fought as they fought in Nelson's fleet; They were stripped to the waist, they were bare to the feet, As it was in the days of old.

It was the sinking _Clampherdown_ Heaved up her battered side -- And carried a million pounds in steel, To the cod and the corpse-fed conger-eel, And the scour of the Channel tide.

It was the crew of the _Clampherdown_ Stood out to sweep the sea, On a cruiser won from an ancient foe, As it was in the days of long ago, And as it still shall be.

THE BALLAD OF THE "BOLIVAR"

Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again, Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain: Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away -- We that took the _Bolivar_ out across the Bay!

We put out from Sunderland loaded down with rails; We put back to Sunderland 'cause our cargo s.h.i.+fted; We put out from Sunderland -- met the winter gales -- Seven days and seven nights to the Start we drifted.

Racketing her rivets loose, smoke-stack white as snow, All the coals adrift adeck, half the rails below, Leaking like a lobster-pot, steering like a dray -- Out we took the _Bolivar_, out across the Bay!

One by one the Lights came up, winked and let us by; Mile by mile we waddled on, coal and fo'c'sle short; Met a blow that laid us down, heard a bulkhead fly; Left the _Wolf_ behind us with a two-foot list to port.

Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her soul; Clanging like a smithy-shop after every roll; Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the spray -- So we threshed the _Bolivar_ out across the Bay!

'Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd break; Wondered every time she raced if she'd stand the shock; Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her strake; Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the plummer-block.

Banged against the iron decks, bilges choked with coal; Flayed and frozen foot and hand, sick of heart and soul; Last we prayed she'd buck herself into judgment Day -- Hi! we cursed the _Bolivar_ knocking round the Bay!

O her nose flung up to sky, groaning to be still -- Up and down and back we went, never time for breath; Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the heel, And the stars ran round and round dancin' at our death.

Aching for an hour's sleep, dozing off between; 'Heard the rotten rivets draw when she took it green; 'Watched the compa.s.s chase its tail like a cat at play -- That was on the _Bolivar_, south across the Bay.

Once we saw between the squalls, lyin' head to swell -- Mad with work and weariness, wis.h.i.+n' they was we -- Some d.a.m.ned Liner's lights go by like a long hotel; Cheered her from the _Bolivar_ swampin' in the sea.

Then a grayback cleared us out, then the skipper laughed; "Boys, the wheel has gone to h.e.l.l -- rig the winches aft!

Yoke the kicking rudder-head -- get her under way!"

So we steered her, pulley-haul, out across the Bay!

Just a pack o' rotten plates puttied up with tar, In we came, an' time enough, 'cross Bilbao Bar.

Overloaded, undermanned, meant to founder, we Euchred G.o.d Almighty's storm, bluffed the Eternal Sea!

Seven men from all the world, back to town again, Rollin' down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain: Seven men from out of h.e.l.l. Ain't the owners gay, 'Cause we took the "Bolivar" safe across the Bay?

THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB

Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai Bears witness to the truth, and Ao-Safai Hath told the men of Gorukh. Thence the tale Comes westward o'er the peaks to India.

The story of Bisesa, Armod's child, -- A maiden plighted to the Chief in War, The Man of Sixty Spears, who held the Pa.s.s That leads to Thibet, but to-day is gone To seek his comfort of the G.o.d called Budh The Silent -- showing how the Sickness ceased Because of her who died to save the tribe.

Taman is One and greater than us all, Taman is One and greater than all G.o.ds: Taman is Two in One and rides the sky, Curved like a stallion's croup, from dusk to dawn, And drums upon it with his heels, whereby Is bred the neighing thunder in the hills.

This is Taman, the G.o.d of all Er-Heb, Who was before all G.o.ds, and made all G.o.ds, And presently will break the G.o.ds he made, And step upon the Earth to govern men Who give him milk-dry ewes and cheat his Priests, Or leave his shrine unlighted -- as Er-Heb Left it unlighted and forgot Taman, When all the Valley followed after Kysh And Yabosh, little G.o.ds but very wise, And from the sky Taman beheld their sin.

He sent the Sickness out upon the hills, The Red Horse Sickness with the iron hooves, To turn the Valley to Taman again.

And the Red Horse snuffed thrice into the wind, The naked wind that had no fear of him; And the Red Horse stamped thrice upon the snow, The naked snow that had no fear of him; And the Red Horse went out across the rocks, The ringing rocks that had no fear of him; And downward, where the lean birch meets the snow, And downward, where the gray pine meets the birch, And downward, where the dwarf oak meets the pine, Till at his feet our cup-like pastures lay.

That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped, Dropped as a cloth upon a dead man's face, And weltered in the Valley, bluish-white Like water very silent -- spread abroad, Like water very silent, from the Shrine Unlighted of Taman to where the stream Is dammed to fill our cattle-troughs -- sent up White waves that rocked and heaved and then were still, Till all the Valley glittered like a marsh, Beneath the moonlight, filled with sluggish mist Knee-deep, so that men waded as they walked.

That night, the Red Horse grazed above the Dam, Beyond the cattle-troughs. Men heard him feed, And those that heard him sickened where they lay.

Thus came the Sickness to Er-Heb, and slew Ten men, strong men, and of the women four; And the Red Horse went hillward with the dawn, But near the cattle-troughs his hoof-prints lay.

That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped, Dropped as a cloth upon the dead, but rose A little higher, to a young girl's height; Till all the Valley glittered like a lake, Beneath the moonlight, filled with sluggish mist.

That night, the Red Horse grazed beyond the Dam, A stone's-throw from the troughs. Men heard him feed, And those that heard him sickened where they lay.

Thus came the Sickness to Er-Heb, and slew Of men a score, and of the women eight, And of the children two.

Because the road To Gorukh was a road of enemies, And Ao-Safai was blocked with early snow, We could not flee from out the Valley. Death Smote at us in a slaughter-pen, and Kysh Was mute as Yabosh, though the goats were slain; And the Red Horse grazed nightly by the stream, And later, outward, towards the Unlighted Shrine, And those that heard him sickened where they lay.

Then said Bisesa to the Priests at dusk, When the white mist rose up breast-high, and choked The voices in the houses of the dead: -- "Yabosh and Kysh avail not. If the Horse Reach the Unlighted Shrine we surely die.

Ye have forgotten of all G.o.ds the Chief, Taman!" Here rolled the thunder through the Hills And Yabosh shook upon his pedestal.

"Ye have forgotten of all G.o.ds the Chief Too long." And all were dumb save one, who cried On Yabosh with the Sapphire 'twixt His knees, But found no answer in the smoky roof, And, being smitten of the Sickness, died Before the altar of the Sapphire Shrine.

Then said Bisesa: -- "I am near to Death, And have the Wisdom of the Grave for gift To bear me on the path my feet must tread.

If there be wealth on earth, then I am rich, For Armod is the first of all Er-Heb; If there be beauty on the earth," -- her eyes Dropped for a moment to the temple floor, -- "Ye know that I am fair. If there be love, Ye know that love is mine." The Chief in War, The Man of Sixty Spears, broke from the press, And would have clasped her, but the Priests withstood, Saying: -- "She has a message from Taman."

Then said Bisesa: -- "By my wealth and love And beauty, I am chosen of the G.o.d Taman." Here rolled the thunder through the Hills And Kysh fell forward on the Mound of Skulls.

In darkness, and before our Priests, the maid Between the altars cast her bracelets down, Therewith the heavy earrings Armod made, When he was young, out of the water-gold Of Gorukh -- threw the breast-plate thick with jade Upon the turquoise anklets -- put aside The bands of silver on her brow and neck; And as the trinkets tinkled on the stones, The thunder of Taman lowed like a bull.

Then said Bisesa, stretching out her hands, As one in darkness fearing Devils: -- "Help!

O Priests, I am a woman very weak, And who am I to know the will of G.o.ds?

Taman hath called me -- whither shall I go?"

The Chief in War, the Man of Sixty Spears, Howled in his torment, fettered by the Priests, But dared not come to her to drag her forth, And dared not lift his spear against the Priests.

Then all men wept.

There was a Priest of Kysh Bent with a hundred winters, hairless, blind, And taloned as the great Snow-Eagle is.

His seat was nearest to the altar-fires, And he was counted dumb among the Priests.

But, whether Kysh decreed, or from Taman The impotent tongue found utterance we know As little as the bats beneath the eaves.

He cried so that they heard who stood without: -- "To the Unlighted Shrine!" and crept aside Into the shadow of his fallen G.o.d And whimpered, and Bisesa went her way.

That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped, Dropped as a cloth upon the dead, and rose Above the roofs, and by the Unlighted Shrine Lay as the slimy water of the troughs When murrain thins the cattle of Er-Heb: And through the mist men heard the Red Horse feed.