THE VOYAGE. I. WE left behind the painted buoy II. Warm broke the breeze against the brow, The Lady's-head upon the prow Caught the shrill salt, and sheer'd the gale. The broad seas swell'd to meet the keel, And swept behind; so quick the run, We felt the good ship shake and reel, We seem'd to sail into the Sun! III. How oft we saw the Sun retire, And burn the threshold of the night, Fall from his Ocean-lane of fire, And sleep beneath his pillar'd light! How oft the purple-skirted robe Of twilight slowly downward drawn, As thro' the slumber of the globe Again we dash'd into the dawn! IV. New stars all night above the brim Far ran the naked moon across The houseless ocean's heaving field, Or flying shone, the silver boss Of her own halo's dusky shield; V. The peaky islet shifted shapes, High towns on hills were dimly seen, We past long lines of Northern capes And dewy Northern meadows green. We came to warmer waves, and deep Across the boundless east we drove, Where those long swells of breaker sweep The nutmeg rocks and isles of clove. VI. By peaks that flamed, or, all in shade, Gloom'd the low coast and quivering brine With ashy rains, that spreading made By sands and steaming flats, and floods VII. O hundred shores of happy climes, How swiftly stream'd ye by the bark! At times the whole sea burn'd, at times With wakes of fire we tore the dark; At times a carven craft would shoot From havens hid in fairy bowers, With naked limbs and flowers and fruit, But we nor paused for fruit nor flowers. VIII. For one fair Vision ever fled Down the waste waters day and night, And fixt upon the far sea-line; IX. And now we lost her, now she gleam'd Now high on waves that idly burst Like Heavenly Hope she crown'd the sea, And now, the bloodless point reversed, She bore the blade of Liberty. X. And only one among us—him We pleased not-he was seldom pleased: He saw not far: his eyes were dim: But ours he swore were all diseased. 'A ship of fools,' he shriek'd in spite, 'A ship of fools,' he sneer'd and wept. And overboard one stormy night He cast his body, and on we swept. XI. And never sail of ours was furl'd, But laws of nature were our scorn. But whence were those that drove the sail Across the whirlwind's heart of peace, And to and thro' the counter gale? XII. Again to colder climes we came, For still we follow'd where she led : Now mate is blind and captain lame, And half the crew are sick or dead, But, blind or lame or sick or sound, We follow that which flies before: We know the merry world is round, And we may sail for evermore. |