This for the waxen Heath, and that for the Wattle bloom, This for the Maple-leaf, and that for the southern The Law that ye make shall be law and I do not press my will, Because ye are Sons of The Blood and call me Mother still. Now must ye speak to your kinsmen and they must speak to you, After the use of the English, in straight-flung words and few. Go to your work and be strong, halting not in your ways, Balking the end half-won for an instant dole of praise. Stand to your work and be wise-certain of sword and pen, Who are neither children nor Gods, but men in a world of men! THE FIRST CHANTEY MINE was the woman to me, darkling I found her; Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her. Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her; Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her. Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us, Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen. Yet ere they came to my lance laid for the slaughter, Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water; Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her, Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid her. 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 Gods 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, This we beheld (and we live)—the Pit of the Burning! Then the God 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 fawningProphet and priestess we came back from the dawn ing! 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 passed away On the smoke of Judgment Day. That Our word may be established shall We gather the sea?" up 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 God may sink the sea!" Then said the soul of Judas that betrayèd 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-shore (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 venge ance 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 Trum pets tore the sea." Then cried the soul of the stout Apostle Paul to God: "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!" |