SHIPMATE, leave the ghostly shadows, Where thy boon companions throng! We will put to sea together Through the twilight with a song. Leering closer, rank and girding, In this Black Port where we bide, Reel a thousand flaring faces; But escape is on the tide. Let the tap-rooms of the city Reek till the red dawn comes round. There is better wine in plenty On the cruise where we are bound. I've aboard a hundred messmates Better than these 'long-shore knaves. There is wreckage on the shallows; It's the open sea that saves. Hark, lad, dost not hear it calling? That's the voice thy father knew, When he took the King's good cutlass In his grip, and fought it through. Who would palter at press-money When he heard that sea-cry vast? That's the call makes lords of lubbers, When they ship before the mast. Let thy cronies of the tavern Keep their kisses bought with gold; On the high seas there are regions Where the heart is never old, Where the great winds every morning Sweep the sea-floor clean and white, And upon the steel-blue arches Burnish the great stars of night; There the open hand will lose not, Nor the loosened tongue betray. Signed, and with our sailing orders, We will clear before the day; On the shining yards of heaven See a wider dawn unfurled.... The eternal slaves of beauty Are the masters of the world. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO CERTAIN POETS by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER IMAGES: 2 by RICHARD ALDINGTON SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 3 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE SHEEPHERD by JOSEPH BEAUMONT REST by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT LINES WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SIDNEY'S ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: CANTO SECUNDO. LOVE'S PILGRIMS by THOMAS CAMPION THE HUE AND THE CRY AFTER SIR JOHN PRESBYTER by JOHN CLEVELAND |