"Nay, if you do not my behest, For those long fingers, and long feet, That saw it. So, an hour yet: So, scarce awake, For Robert, both his eyes were dry, With a start Up Godmar rose, thrust them apart; Godmar turn'd grinning to his men, Then Godmar turn'd again and said: This was the parting that they had ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON [1850-1894] THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE WHEN I was sick and lay a-bed, And sometimes for an hour or so And sometimes sent my ships in fleets I was the giant great and still And sees before him, dale and plain, [From A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES.] MY WIFE TRUSTY, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble-dew, Steel-true and blade-straight, The great artificer Made my mate. Honour, anger, valour, fire; A love that life could never tire, Death quench or evil stir, The mighty master Gave to her. Teacher, tender, comrade, wife, Gave to me. REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: And the hunter home from the hill. RUDYARD KIPLING [1865–] THE LAST CHANTEY "And there was no more sea." THUS said the Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim 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 God may sink the sea!" Then said the soul of Judas that betrayèd Him: 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 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: 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 soul 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 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!" 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?" |