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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 up the sea ?Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mari“ Plague upon the hurricanes 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 !"

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 labored

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 mari

ners, Plucking at their harps, and they plucked

unhandily: “Our thumbs are rough and tarred,

And the tune is something hard May we lift the Dipsea Chantey such as

seamen use at sea ?"

ners :

Then said the soul of Judas that betrayed

Him : “Lord, hast Thou forgotten Thy cove

nant with me?
How once a year I go

Ι
To cool me on the floe,
And Ye take my day of mercy if Ye take

away the sea !

Then said the souls of the gentlemen ad

venturers 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 'speck

shioner (He that led the flinching in the fleets of

fair Dundee) :
“ Ho, the ringer and right whale,

And the fish were struck for sale,
Will Ye whelm them all for wantonness

that wallow in 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 honor from me if Ye

take away the sea !Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mari“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 clamor for

a vengeance on the sea !”

ners :

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mari

ners, Crying : “Under Heaven, here is neither

land nor lea!
Must we sing for evermore

On the windless, glassy floor?
Take back your golden fiddles and we 'll

beat for 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.

Then said the souls of the slaves that men

threw overboard : “ Kennelled in the picaroon a weary

band were we ; But Thy arm is strong to save, And it touched us on the wave,

Sun, wind and cloud shall fail not from

the face of it, Stringing, ringing spindrift nor the ful.

mar flying free,

And the ships shall

go

abroad To the glory of the Lord, Who heard the silly sailor men and gave

them back their sea !

Arthur Symons
AT FONTAINEBLEAU

Her fingers into mazy lines,

Twining her scarves across them all the It was a day of sun and rain,

while. Uncertain as a child's swift moods ; And I shall never spend again

One, two, three, four step forth, and, to So blithe a day among the woods.

and fro,

Delicately and imperceptibly, Was it because the Gods were pleased Now swaying gently in a row, That they were awful in our eyes,

Now interthreading slow and rhythmiWhom we in very deed appeased

cally, With barley-cakes of sacrifice ?

Still with fixed eyes, monotonously still, The forest knew her and was glad,

Mysteriously, with smiles inanimate, And laughed for very joy to know

With lingering feet that undulate, Her child was with her ; then, grown With sinuous fingers, spectral hands that sad,

thrill, She wept, because her child must go.

The little amber-colored dancers move, And Alice, like a little Faun,

Like little painted figures on a screen, Went leaping over rocks and ferns,

Or phantom-dancers haply seen Coursing the shadow-race from dawn Among the shadows of a magic grove. Until the twilight-flock returns.

DURING MUSIC
And she would spy and she would cap-
ture

The music had the heat of blood,
The shyest flower that lit the grass ;
The joy I had to watch her rapture

A passion that no words can reach ; Was keen as even her rapture was.

We sat together, and understood

Our own heart's speech. The forest knew her and was glad,

We had no need of word or sign, And laughed and wept for joy and

The music spoke for us, and said This was the welcome that she had

All that her eyes could read in mine

Or mine in hers had read.
Among the woods of Fontainebleau.

TO A PORTRAIT
JAVANESE DANCERS

A PENSIVE photograph
TWITCHED strings, the clang of metal,

Watches me from the shelf beaten drums,

Ghost of old love, and half
Dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting ;

Ghost of myself !
And now the stealthy dancer comes
Undulantly with cat-like steps that cling ; How the dear waiting eyes

Watch me and love me yet —
Smiling between her painted lids a smile Sad home of memories,
Motionless, unintelligible, she twines

Her waiting eyes !

woe.

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None would believe, in very truth,

A maiden was so fair, they said.

And evermore they come and go,

With life and hope so sweet and high, In all the world how should they know

There is no one so tired as I.

OCTOBER

How could they know they gave to me

The daily hope which made me fair, Sweet promises of things to be,

The happy things I was to share. The flowers painted round my face,

The magic seas and skies above, And many a fair enchanted place

Full of the summer time and love.

They set me in a fairy-land,

So much more real than they knew, And I was slow to understand

The pictures could not all come true.

But one by one, they died somehow,
The waking dreams which kept me

glad,
And as I sat, they told me now,

None would believe a maid so sad.

From falling leaf to falling leaf,

How strange it was, through all the year, In all its joy and all its grief,

You did not know I loved you dear ; Through all the winter-time and spring,

You smiled and watched me come and go, Through all the summer blossoming,

How strange it was you did not know. Your face shone from my earth and sky,

Your voice was in my heart always, Days were as dreams when you were by,

And nights of dreaming linked the days; In my great joy I craved so much,

My life lay trembling at your hand, I prayed you for one magic touch,

How strange you did not understand ! From leaf to leaf, the trees are bare,

The autumn wind is cold and stern, And outlined in the clear sharp air

Lies a new world for me to learn ; Stranger than all, dear friend, to-day,

You take my hand and do not know A thousand years have passed away,

Since last year — when I loved you so.

a

They paint me still, but now I sit

Just for my neck and shoulder lines, And for the little lingering bit

Of color in my hair that shines.

And as a figure worn and strange

Into their groups I sometimes stray, To break the light, to mark their range

Of sun and shade, of grave and gay.

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One with the leaves ; one with the dove

That moans and sighs a hundred days; How when we die our shades will rove,

Dropping at eve in coral bays
A vapory footfall on the ocean's sleepy

blaze.

There we will moor our lonely ship

And wander ever with woven hands,

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