COMING ACROSS. 139 E COMING ACROSS. VERY sail is full set, and the sky And the moon mid her virgins glides on And the throb of the pulse never stops In the heart of the ship, As her measures of water and fire She drinks down at a sip. Yet I never can think, as I lie, And so wearily toss, That by saint or by star, or by ship, I am coming across; But by light which I know in dear eyes And the touch I remember of hands That are waiting for me By the light of the eyes I could come, If the stars should all fail; And I think, if the ship should go down, Ah! my darlings, you never will know Of you all, and how breathless and glad H. H. I FLOTSAM AND JETSAM. 'VE sailed the sea these many years, Yet stout my heart, undimmed my eye; Whene'er I meet my sailing peers, "All's well!" I to their shout reply. These many years I've sailed the sea, My freight was orient spicery, And fruitage of the Indian palm. Far lighter is my laden bark Than when it left the morning shore : Of this, some part, in secret caves, Lies mixed with dim, unfooted sands: Some part is borne upon the waves I would some wrecker there might be To whom the undiscerning sea ; Might bring these stolen things as gifts : Thou shivering dweller by the sands, Look what to thee a bankrupt sends! What falls to thine unweeting hands Shall house thee, feed thee, make thee friends. BY THE SEA-SHORE. I've sailed the sea these many years, Yet stout my heart, undimmed my eye; When'er I meet my sailing peers, "All's well!" I to their shout reply. Now close at hand the roadstead lies, 141 Edith Thomas. Each higher wave Doth touch and lave A million pebbles smooth and bright; Straightway they grow A beauteous show, With hues unknown before bedight. High up the beach, Far out of reach Of common tides that ebb and flow, The drift wood's heap Doth record keep Of storms that perished long ago. Nor storms alone : I hear the moan Of voices choked by dashing brine, When sunken rock Or tempest shock Crushed the good vessel's oaken spine Where ends the beach, The cliffs upreach Their lichened bastions, centuries old; And here I rest, While all the west Grows brighter with the sunset's gold. Far out at sea, The ships that flee Along the dim horizon's line Their sails unfold Like cloth of gold, Transfigured by that light divine. I shall rejoice With heart and voice That one such day has ever been. J. W. Chadwick. WHAT ARGUMENT? Nor knowest thou what argument DRIFTING dreamily with the tide, EMERSON. Slowly away from the sunset's gold, Leaning over our vessel's side, We watched the sail with its drooping fold. |