The great gale of the winter flings himself flat upon earth.

He hurriedly scribbles on the sand His transient tragic destiny.

PART II. VARIATIONS

(1) SAILBOATS

_Scherzando._

Light as thin-winged swallows pirouetting and gyrating, The sails dance in the estuary: Now heeling to the gust, now cantering, Bobbing as shuttles back and forth from each other.

I They scorn the black steamers that steadily near them I On a course direct, with white spume of smoke from their bows, With snapping crash of breakers they fling themselves forward: Black on the wing-tips, white on the underside.

These are the birds of the land breeze, Nesting on green waves in the gold sunlight: These are the sailships Heeling and tossing about in the estuary.

(2) THE TIDE

_Con moto ondeggiante_

The tide makes music At the foot of the beach; The waves sing together Rumble of breakers.

Ships there are swaying, Into the distance, Thrum of the cordage, Slap of the sails.

The tide makes music At the foot of the beach; Low notes of an organ 'Gainst the dull clang of bells.

The tide's tense purple On the untrodden sand: Its throat is blue, Its hands are gold.

The tide makes music: The tide all day Catches light from the clouds That float over the sky.

Ocean, old serpent, Coils up and uncoils; With sinuous motion, With rustle of scales.

(3) THE SANDS

_Lento._

Shallow pools of water Are drinking up the sky; Chasms of cool blue-white In the brown of the sands.

The clouds are in them, The houses on the sh.o.r.e, The winds rumple the even Glimmer of the reflection.

_Appa.s.sionato._

I dash across those shallow pools: Starring their gauzy surface: A plopping rush of bubbles: I turn and watch my boot-tracks Oozing upwards slowly in the dark wind-wrinkled sand.

(4) THE GULLS

_Molto Allegro._

White stars scattering, Pale rain of spray-drops, Delicate flash of smoke wind-drifted low and high, Silver upon dark purple, The gulls quiver In a noiseless flight, far out across the sky.

(5) STEAMERS

_Maestoso._

Like black plunging dolphins with red bellies, The steamers in herds Swim through the choppy breakers On this day of winds and clouds.

Wallowing and plunging, They seek their path, The smoke of their snorting Hangs in the sky.

Like black plunging dolphins with red bellies, The steamers pa.s.s, Flapping their propellers Salt with the spray.

Their iron sides glisten, Their stays thrash: Their funnels quiver With the heat from beneath.

Like black plunging dolphins with red bellies, The steamers together Dive and roll through the tumult Of green hissing water.

These are the avid of spoil, Gleaners of the seas, They loom on their adventure Up purple and chrome horizons.

(6) NIGHT OF STARS

_Allegro brillante._

The sky immense, bejewelled with rain of stars, Hangs over us: The stars like a sudden explosion powder the zenith With green and gold; North-east, south-west the Milky Way's pale streamers Flash past in flame; The sky is a swirling cataract Of fire, on high.

Over us the sky up to the zenith Palpitates with tense glitter: About our keel the foam bubbles and curdles In phosph.o.r.escent joy.

Flame boils up to meet down-rushing flame In the blue stillness.

Aloft a single orange meteor Crashes down the sky.

PART III. VARIATIONS

(1) THE GROUNDSWELL.

_Marcia Funebre._

With heavy doleful clamour, hour on hour, and day on day, The muddy groundswell lifts and breaks and falls and slides away.

The cold and naked wind runs shivering over the sands, Salt are its eyes, open its mouth, its brow wet, blue its hands.