Along the coast the storm-wind raging went, And tore me from my caves.

"I am the bitter herbage of that plain Where no flocks pasture, and no man shall have

Homestead, nor any tenure there may gain
But only for a grave.

"A worthless weed, a drifting, broken weed,
What can I do in all this boundless sea?
No creature of the universe has need
Or any thought of me."

Hither and yonder, as the winds might blow,

The sea-weed floated. Then a refluent tide Swept it along to meet a galleon's prow "Land ho!" Columbus cried.

I could not send more men to stand
And turn in idleness the wheel
Until they took death's beckoning hand,
While others, meeting steel with steel,
Flamed out their lives - an eager band,
Cheers on their lips, and in their eyes
The goal-rapt look of high emprise.

So to the wheel I went. Like bees
I heard the shot go darting by;
There came a trembling in my knees,
And black spots whirled about the sky.
I thought of things beyond the seas -
The little town where I was born,
And swallows twittering in the morn.

A wounded creature drew him where
I grasped the wheel, and begged to steer.

It mattered not how he might fare The little time he had for fear;

So if I left this to his care

He too might serve us yet, he said. He died there while I shook my head.

I would not fall so like a dog,

My helpless back turned to the foe; So when his great hulk, like a log,

Came surging past our quarter, lo! With helm hard down, straight through the fog

Of battle smoke, and luffing wide,

I sent our sharp bow through his side..

The willing waves came rushing in

The ragged entrance that we gave;
Like snakes I heard their green coils spin
Up, up, around our floating grave;
But dauntless still, amid a din

Of clashing steel and battle-shout,
We rushed to drive their boarders out.

Around me in a closing ring

My grim-faced foemen darkly drew; Then, sweeter than the lark in spring, Loud rang our blades; the red sparks flew.

Twice, thrice, I felt the sudden sting
Of some keen stroke; then, swinging fair,
My own clave more than empty air.

The fight went raging past me when

My good blade cleared a silent place; Then in a ring of fallen men

I paused to breathe a little space. Elsewhere the deck roared like a glen When mountain torrents meet; the fray A moment then seemed far away.

The barren sea swept to the sky;

The empty sky dipped to the sea; Such utter waste could scarcely lie

Beyond death's starved periphery. Only one living thing went by:

Far overhead an ominous bird Rode down the gale with wings unstirred. Windward I saw the billows swing

Dark crests to beckon others on To see our end; then, hurrying

To reach us ere we should be gone, They came, like tigers mad to fling Their jostling bodies on our ships, And snarl at us with foaming lips.

There was no time to spare: a wave
E'en then broke growling at my feet;
One last look to the sky I gave,
Then sprang my eager foes to meet.
Loud rang the fray above our grave
I felt the vessel downward reel
As my last thrust met thrusting steel.

I heard a roaring in my ears;

A green wall pressed against my eyes;
Down, down I passed; the vanished years
I saw in mimicry arise.
Yet even then I felt no fears,

And with my last expiring breath
My past rose up and mocked at death.

SLEEP

IN a tangled, scented hollow,
On a bed of crimson roses,
Stilly now the wind reposes;
Hardly can the breezes borrow
Breath to stir the night-swept river.
Motionless the water-sedges,
And within the dusky hedges
Sounds no leaf's impatient shiver.
Sleep has come, that rare rest-giver.

Light and song have flown away
With the sun and twilight swallow;
Scarcely will the unknown morrow
Bring again so sweet a day.
Song was born of Joy and Thought;
Light, of Love and her caress.
Nothing's left me but a tress;

Death and Sleep the rest have wrought — Death and Sleep, who came unsought.

HIS QUEST

WHAT seek'st thou at this madman's pace ?
"I seek my love's new dwelling place:
Her house is dark, her doors are wide,
There bat and owl and beetle bide,
And there, breast-high, the rank weeds
grow,

And drowsy poppies nod and blow.
So mount I swift to ride me through
The world to find my love anew.
I have no token of the way;
I haste by night, I press by day.
Through busy cities I am borne,
On lonely heights I watch the morn
Climb up the east, and see the light
Of waning moon gleam thwart my flight.
Sometimes a light before me flees;
I follow it, till stormy seas

Break wide before, then all is dark. Sometimes on plains, wide, still, and stark,

I hear a voice; I seek the sound,
And ride into a hush profound.
To find her dwelling I will ride
Worlds through and through, whate'er

betide.

To find her dwelling rode he forth,
In vain rode south, in vain rode north;
In vain in mountain, plain, and mart
He searched, but never searched his heart