Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the Giver!) Otter-like left he the bank for the full river.

Far fell their axes behind, flashing and ringing, Wonder was on me and fear -- yet she was singing!

Low lay the land we had left. Now the blue bound us, Even the Floor of the G.o.ds level around us.

Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor showing, Till the light stirred on the deep, glowing and growing.

Then did He leap to His place flaring from under, He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder.

Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with gazing, Cleared He the gate of the world, huge and amazing!

This we beheld (and we live) -- the Pit of the Burning!

Then the G.o.d spoke to the tree for our returning; Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly, Back to our slayers went he: but we were holy.

Men that were hot in that hunt, women that followed, Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and wallowed: Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning -- Prophet and priestess we came back from the dawning!

THE LAST CHANTEY

"_And there was no more sea._"

Thus said The Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim Calling to the Angels and the Souls in their degree: "Lo! Earth has pa.s.sed away On the smoke of Judgment Day.

That Our word may be established shall We gather up the sea?"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners: "Plague upon the hurricane that made us furl and flee!

But the war is done between us, In the deep the Lord hath seen us -- Our bones we'll leave the barracout', and G.o.d may sink the sea!"

Then said the soul of Judas that betray]ed Him: "Lord, hast Thou forgotten Thy covenant with me?

How once a year I go To cool me on the floe?

And Ye take my day of mercy if Ye take away the sea!"

Then said the soul of the Angel of the Off-sh.o.r.e Wind: (He that bits the thunder when the bull-mouthed breakers flee): "I have watch and ward to keep O'er Thy wonders on the deep, And Ye take mine honour from me if Ye take away the sea!"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners: "Nay, but we were angry, and a hasty folk are we!

If we worked the ship together Till she foundered in foul weather, Are we babes that we should clamour for a vengeance on the sea?"

Then said the souls of the slaves that men threw overboard: "Kennelled in the picaroon a weary band were we; But Thy arm was strong to save, And it touched us on the wave, And we drowsed the long tides idle till Thy Trumpets tore the sea."

Then cried the soul of the stout Apostle Paul to G.o.d: "Once we frapped a ship, and she laboured woundily.

There were fourteen score of these, And they blessed Thee on their knees, When they learned Thy Grace and Glory under Malta by the sea!"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners, Plucking at their harps, and they plucked unhandily: "Our thumbs are rough and tarred, And the tune is something hard -- May we lift a Deep-sea Chantey such as seamen use at sea?"

Then said the souls of the gentlemen-adventurers -- Fettered wrist to bar all for red iniquity: "Ho, we revel in our chains O'er the sorrow that was Spain's; Heave or sink it, leave or drink it, we were masters of the sea!"

Up spake the soul of a gray Gothavn 'speckshioner -- (He that led the flinching in the fleets of fair Dundee): "Oh, the ice-blink white and near, And the bowhead breaching clear!

Will Ye whelm them all for wantonness that wallow in the sea?"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners, Crying: "Under Heaven, here is neither lead nor lee!

Must we sing for evermore On the windless, gla.s.sy floor?

Take back your golden fiddles and we'll beat to open sea!"

Then stooped the Lord, and He called the good sea up to Him, And 'stablished his borders unto all eternity, That such as have no pleasure For to praise the Lord by measure, They may enter into galleons and serve Him on the sea.

Sun, wind, and cloud shall fail not from the face of it, Stinging, ringing spindrift, nor the fulmar flying free; And the ships shall go abroad To the Glory of the Lord Who heard the silly sailor-folk and gave them back their sea!

THE MERCHANTMEN

King Solomon drew merchantmen, Because of his desire For peac.o.c.ks, apes, and ivory, From Tarshish unto Tyre: With cedars out of Lebanon Which Hiram rafted down, But we be only sailormen That use in London Town.

_Coastwise -- cross-seas -- round the world and back again -- Where the flaw shall head us or the full Trade suits -- Plain-sail -- storm-sail -- lay your board and tack again -- And that's the way we'll pay Paddy Doyle for his boots!_

We bring no store of ingots, Of spice or precious stones, But that we have we gathered With sweat and aching bones: In flame beneath the tropics, In frost upon the floe, And jeopardy of every wind That does between them go.

And some we got by purchase, And some we had by trade, And some we found by courtesy Of pike and carronade -- At midnight, 'mid-sea meetings, For charity to keep, And light the rolling homeward-bound That rode a foot too deep.

By sport of bitter weather We're walty, strained, and scarred From the kentledge on the kelson To the slings upon the yard.

Six oceans had their will of us To carry all away -- Our galley's in the Baltic, And our boom's in Mossel Bay!

We've floundered off the Texel, Awash with sodden deals, We've slipped from Valparaiso With the Norther at our heels: We've ratched beyond the Crossets That tusk the Southern Pole, And dipped our gunnels under To the dread Agulhas roll.

Beyond all outer charting We sailed where none have sailed, And saw the land-lights burning On islands none have hailed; Our hair stood up for wonder, But, when the night was done, There danced the deep to windward Blue-empty 'neath the sun!

Strange consorts rode beside us And brought us evil luck; The witch-fire climbed our channels, And flared on vane and truck: Till, through the red tornado, That lashed us nigh to blind, We saw The Dutchman plunging, Full canvas, head to wind!

We've heard the Midnight Leadsman That calls the black deep down -- Ay, thrice we've heard The Swimmer, The Thing that may not drown.

On frozen bunt and gasket The sleet-cloud drave her hosts, When, manned by more than signed with us, We pa.s.sed the Isle o' Ghosts!

And north, amid the hummocks, A biscuit-toss below, We met the silent shallop That frighted whalers know; For, down a cruel ice-lane, That opened as he sped, We saw dead Henry Hudson Steer, North by West, his dead.

So dealt G.o.d's waters with us Beneath the roaring skies, So walked His signs and marvels All naked to our eyes: But we were heading homeward With trade to lose or make -- Good Lord, they slipped behind us In the tailing of our wake!

Let go, let go the anchors; Now shamed at heart are we To bring so poor a cargo home That had for gift the sea!

Let go the great bow-anchors -- Ah, fools were we and blind -- The worst we stored with utter toil, The best we left behind!

_Coastwise -- cross-seas -- round the world and back again, Whither flaw shall fail us or the Trades drive down: Plain-sail -- storm-sail -- lay your board and tack again -- And all to bring a cargo up to London Town!_

M'ANDREW'S HYMN

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream, An', taught by time, I tak' it so -- exceptin' always Steam.