PART FIRST Down the Delaware, some miles From the salt air of the Bay, Where the mighty stream still whiles Slumberingly along his way, Stands the little town which took Somehow the name of Marcus Hook. Founded by the blue-eyed Swede Was it in the days of old, When o'er forest, flood and mead Ruled John Printz, the governor bold, And the music of the drum Echoed over Tinicum. Empty is the village street On this wild September night, All deserted by men's feet, Though the winds are in their might, When, in groups of three or four, Come some figures up the shore. From the misty river-places, Where the fish-hawk has his home, With their cloaks about their faces, Like conspirators they come, Striding through the rainy night Toward the tavern's glimmering light. How the equinoctial blows! Down about the salty capes, Where the wrecker's beacon glows, Early morning shipwrecked shapes Shall discover, cold and wan, Thinks Dame Rambo of @3The Swan@1. Daughter of a Norseman she, Who with Minuit sought this shore, Wandering over land and sea, As his sires had done of yore, And by Delaware's brown flood Learned to calm his viking blood. Little cares she for the gale, Slam of shutter, dash of rain, Drawing for her patrons ale Thor himself would not disdain, Such as once, 'mid song and story, Foamed o'er Thule's hills in glory. Later points the ancient clock, Standing grimly by the wall; "Ten" -- its wizard bells now knock In their tower so dark and tall; Few the guests that still remain, When a sound comes from the rain: Steps and voices -- those of men -- Shaking out of storm-drenched cloaks On the tavern porch -- and then In the door, with beard which smokes From the wet, tempestuous night, Walks a figure to the light. Tall and most fantastic dressed -- Round his shoulders drawn a cape -- Scarlet had it been at best, Now, about his lusty shape, Like a sea-waif, breaker flung, Faded by the wave it hung. Ted in knots with ribbons gay Was the sable beard he wore; Bright he smiled (so gleams the day Through dark clouds when tempests roar) Bowed and from his low-bent head Took a cap bizarre: then said: "Madam, to your goodly cheer Could I bring my comrades in? Wild the night outside and drear. From the storm's on-coming din Took we refuge in the Bay. Sailors are we, frank and gay." From the tables where they sat, Hard the village gossips stared; In their hands the ale grew flat, But no word nor sign they dared As Dame Rambo to the tall Guest replied: "Be welcome all!" Then, in costumes bright and strange, With a foreign air about them, As though, in their merry range, Few the seas had been without them, Came these mariners, no man Knew from whence, into @3The Swan@1. PART SECOND How they drank the bitter ale! How their bonny beards did wag! Like the berserks, bold and hale, Who beneath some forebear's flag Once held Yule-tide revelries, Seemed they to Dame Rambo's eyes. Midnight -- struck the old Norse clock; Louder rang the jovial laugh; More than any of his wild flock Did the gay first-comer quaff; Sitting near the fire-place wide, With a beaker by his side. Red the flames shone on his face; Lit a belted dagger's hilt; "Madam," quoth he, "by your grace I a sailor's song will lilt." Then, with pantomime which ran With his singing, he began. SONG 1 "Down in the sea-sands, Where the gull screams, Buried by my hands, Bright treasure gleams. O'er it a pale ghost Hovers for ever; Him from his mammon Death cannot sever; Where his gold glittered Aye was his soul; Therefore I killed him To guard it from mole -- Killed him to guard it From man and from mole. 2 "I a gallant am For whom doves wrangle; In my beard's meshes Sweet hearts I tangle. Far in Barbados, Where grows the cane, Seven lovely lady-birds Deck I with gain. Five in the Carolines, Three here I kiss; Wedded with priest-book Each one, I wis -- Wedded with candles And priest-book, I wis. 3 "I am the pirate, Blackbeard, the rover. Under my red flag I skim the seas over. Keen is my cutlass, Cold as my heart When against foemen Bear I my part. But when from fair hands Bubbles the cheer, Who more benign Than the bold buccaneer? -- Gay and benign Than the bold buccaneer?" Silent for a moment's space Was the tavern when he ceased, Save that still, outside the place, Roared the tempest from the east, Then -- a bacchanalian sound -- Went the rovers' plaudits round. Pale the villagers with fright. This the Blackbeard and his crew, Of whose deeds the pitchy night Was the only emblem true? This the pirate who along All the coast had stamped his wrong? But in old dame Rambo's eyes Calmly shone their wonted light; Terror weak she did despise; Courage was her race's right; Something even did she ken Which she loved in these wild men. And when from his fire-lit seat -- While the others round him stand -- Rose the captain to his feet, With a beaker in his hand, Smiled she, as each sea-dog hale Drank her health in nut-brown ale. Then, while every gossip wondered, From beneath his scarlet cape Blackbeard drew a bag, and sundered All its tightly-twisted tape. Lo, what gold and silver bright Lay before Dame Rambo's sight! "Madam, ere once more we fly O'er the deep, take this souvenir; Never, under any sky Have we tasted better cheer -- I and my bold corsair band." Thus he spoke, with cap in hand. Low he bowed, as when he entered: "Now, my merry men, away!" On them were all gazes centered Till were gone their figures gay; And @3The Swan's@1 lamps dimly shone On the villagers alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALONZO CHURCHILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BOTTLES AND THE WINE by GEORGE SANTAYANA BEFORE THE FLOWERS OF FRIENDSHIP FADED FADED: 21 by GERTRUDE STEIN |