MORNING

WE stood among the boats and nets; We saw the swift clouds fall, We watched the schooners scamper in Before the sudden squall;-- The jolly squall strove l.u.s.tily To whelm the sheltered street-- The merry squall that piled the seas About the patient headland's knees And chased the fishing fleet.

She laughed; as if with wings her mirth Arose and left the wingless earth And all tame things behind; Rose like a bird, wild with delight Whose briny pinions flash in flight Through storm and sun and wind.

Her laughter sought those skies because Their mood and hers were one, For she and I were drunk with love And life and storm and sun!

And while she laughed, the Sun himself Leapt laughing through the rain And struck his harper hand along The ringing coast; and that wind-song Whose joy is mixed with pain Forgot the undertone of grief And joined the jocund strain, And over every hidden reef Whereon the waves broke merrily Rose jets and sprays of melody And leapt and laughed again.

II

MOONLIGHT

We stood among the boats and nets ...

We marked the risen moon Walk swaying o'er the trembling seas As one sways in a swoon;

The little stars, the lonely stars, Stole through the hollow sky, And every sucking eddy where The waves lapped wharf or rotten stair Moaned like some stricken thing hid there And strangled with its own despair As the shuddering tide crept by.

I loved her, and I hated her-- Or did I hate myself because, Bound by obscure, strong, silken laws, I felt myself the worshiper Of beauty never wholly mine?

With lures most apt to snare, entwine, With bonds too subtle to define, Her lighter nature mastered mine; Herself half given, half withheld, Her lesser spirit still compelled Its tribute from my franker soul: So--rebel, slave, and worshiper!-- I loved her and I hated her.

I gazed upon her, I, her thrall, And musing, murmured, _What if death_

_Were just the answer to it all?-- Suppose some dainty dagger quaffed Her life in one deep eager draught?-- Suppose some amorous knife caressed The lovely hollow of her breast?"_-- She turned a mocking look to mine: She read the thought within my eyne, She held me with her look--and laughed!

Now who may tell what stirs, controls, And shapes mad fancies into facts?

What trivial things may quicken souls To irrevocable, swift acts?

Now who has known, who understood, Wherefore some idle thing May stab with deadlier sting Than well-considered insult could?-- May spur the languor of a mood And rouse a tiger in the blood?--

Ah, Christ!--had she not laughed just when That fancy came! ... for then ... and then ...

A sudden mist dropped from the sky,

A mist swept in across the sea ...

A mist that hid her face from me ...

A weeping mist all tinged with red, A dripping mist that smelt like blood ...

It choked my throat, it burnt my brain ...

And through it peered one sallow star, And through it rang one shriek of pain ...

And when it pa.s.sed my hands were red, My soul was dabbled with her blood; And when it pa.s.sed my love was dead And tossed upon the troubled flood.

III

MOONSET

But see! ... the body does not sink; It rides upon the tide (A starbeam on the dagger's haft), With staring eyes and wide ...

And now, up from the darkling sea, Down from the failing moon, Are come strange shapes to mock at me ...

All pallid from the star-pale sea, White from the paling moon ...

Or whirling fast or wheeling slow Around, around the corpse they go, All bloodless o'er the sickened sea Beneath the ailing moon!

And are they only wisps of fog That dance along the waves?

Only shapes of mist the wind Drives along the waves?

Or are they spirits that the sea Has cheated of their graves?

The ghosts of them that died at sea, Of murdered men flung in the sea, Whose bodies had no graves?-- Lost souls that haunt for evermore The sobbing reef and hollowed sh.o.r.e And always-murmuring caves?

Ah, surely something more than fog, More than starlit mist!

For starlight never makes a sound And fogs are ever whist-- But hearken, hearken, hearken, now, For these sing as they dance!

As airily, as eerily, They wheel about and whirl, They jeer at me, they fleer at me, They flout me as they swirl!

As whirling fast or swaying slow, Reeling, wheeling, to and fro, Around, around the corpse they go, They chill me with their chants!

These be neither men nor mists-- Hearken to their chants:

_Ever, ever, ever, Drifting like a blossom Seaward, with the starlight Wan upon her bosom-- Ever when the quickened Heart of night is throbbing, Ever when the trembling Tide sets seaward, sobbing, Shall you see this burden Borne upon its ebbing: See her drifting seaward Like a broken blossom,_

_Ever see the starlight Kiss her bruised bosom.

Flight availeth nothing ...

Still the subtle beaches Draw you back where Horror Walks their shingled reaches ...

Ever shall your spirit Hear the surf resounding, Evermore the ocean Thwarting you and bounding; Vainly struggle inland!

Lashing you and hounding, Still the vision hales you From the upland reaches, Goading you and gripping, Binds you to the beaches!

Ever, ever, ever, Ever shall her laughter, Hunting you and haunting, Mock and follow after; Rising where the buoy-bell Clangs across the shallows,_

_Leaping where the spindrift Hurtles o'er the hollows, Ringing where the moonlight Gleams along the billows, Ever, ever, ever, Ever shall her laughter, Hounding you and haunting, Whip and follow after!_

IV

SUNSET

I stood among the boats The sinking sun, the angry sun, Across the sullen wave Laid the sudden strength of his red wrath Like to a shaken glaive:-- Or did the sun pause in the west To lift a sword at me, Or was it she, or was it she, Rose for an instant on some crest And plucked the red blade from her breast And brandished it at me?

THE TAVERN OF DESPAIR

THE wraiths of murdered hopes and loves Come whispering at the door, Come creeping through the weeping mist That drapes the barren moor; But we within have turned the key 'Gainst Hope and Love and Care, Where Wit keeps tryst with Folly, at The Tavern of Despair.

And we have come by divers ways To keep this merry tryst, But few of us have kept within The Narrow Way, I wist; For we are those whose ampler wits And hearts have proved our curse-- Foredoomed to ken the better things And aye to do the worse!

Long since we learned to mock ourselves; And from self-mockery fell

To heedless laughter in the face Of Heaven, Earth, and h.e.l.l.

We quiver 'neath, and mock, G.o.d's rod; We feel, and mock, His wrath; We mock our own blood on the thorns That rim the "Primrose Path."

We mock the eerie glimmering shapes That range the outer wold, We mock our own cold hearts because They are so dead and cold; We flout the things we might have been Had self to self proved true, We mock the roses flung away, We mock the garnered rue;

The fates that gibe have lessoned us; There sups to-night on earth No madder crew of wastrels than This fellowship of mirth....

(Of mirth ... drink, fools!--nor let it flag Lest from the outer mist Creep in that other company Unbidden to the tryst.