The New Morning | Page 7

spars,
Hear the flickering
threads between,
Quick, through all the storms that blind them,

Quick with words that rush to find them.
Think you these aërial wires
Whisper more than spirits may?
Think
you that our strong desires
Touch no distance when we pray?
Think
you that no wings are flying
'Twixt the living and the dying?
Inland, here, upon your knees,
You shall breathe from urgent lips,

Round the ships that guard your seas,
Fleet on fleet of angel ships;

Yea, the guarded may so bless them
That no terrors can distress them.
You shall guide the darkling prow,
Kneeling thus--and far inland--

You shall touch the storm-beat brow
Gently as a spirit-hand.
Even a
blindfold prayer may speed them,
And a little child may lead them.
FISHERS OF MEN
Long, long ago He said,
He who could wake the dead,
And walk
upon the sea--
"_Come, follow Me._
"Leave your brown nets and bring
Only your hearts to sing,
Only
your souls to pray,
Rise, come away.
"Shake out your spirit-sails,
And brave those wilder gales,
And I
will make you then
Fishers of men."
Was this, then, what He meant?
Was this His high intent,
After two
thousand years
Of blood and tears?
God help us, if we fight
For right, and not for might.
God help us if
we seek
To shield the weak.
Then, though His heaven be far
From this blind welter of war,
He'll
bless us, on the sea
From Calvary.

AN OPEN BOAT
O what is that whimpering there in the darkness?
_"Let him lie in my
arms. He is breathing, I know.
Look. I'll wrap all my hair round his
neck."--"The sea's rising, The boat must be lightened. He's dead. He
must go."_
See--quick--by that flash, where the bitter foam tosses,
The cloud of
white faces, in the black open boat,
And the wild pleading woman
that clasps her dead lover
And wraps her loose hair round his breast
and his throat.
_"Come, lady, he's dead." "No, I feel his heart beating.
He's living, I
know. But he's numbed with the cold.
See, I'm wrapping my hair all
around him to warm him"----
--"No. We can't keep the dead, dear.
Come, loosen your hold._
_"Come. Loosen your fingers."--"O God, let me keep him!"_
O, hide
it, black night! Let the winds have their way!
For there are no voices
or ghosts from that darkness,
To fret the bare seas at the breaking of
day.
PEACE IN A PALACE
"You were weeping in the night," said the Emperor,
"Weeping in
your sleep, I am told."
"It was nothing but a dream," said the Empress;

But her face grew gray and old.
"You thought you saw our German
God defeated?"
"Oh, no!" she said. "I saw no lightnings fall.
I
dreamed of a whirlpool of green water,
Where something had gone
down. That was all.
_"All but the whimper of the sea gulls flying,
Endlessly round and
round,
Waiting for the faces, the faces from the darkness,
The
dreadful rising faces of the drowned._
"It was nothing but a dream," said the Empress.
"I thought I was

walking on the sea;
And the foam rushed up in a wild smother,
And
a crowd of little faces looked at me.
They were drowning! They were drowning," said the Empress,
"And
they stretched their feeble arms to the sky;
But the worst was--they
mistook me for their mother,
And cried as my children used to cry.
_"Nothing but a whimper of the sea-gulls flying,
Endlessly round and
round,
With the cruel yellow beaks that were waiting for the faces,
The little floating faces of the drowned."_
"It was nothing but a dream," said the Emperor,
"So why should you
weep, dear, eh?"--
"Oh, I saw the red letters on a life belt
That the
green sea washed my way!"--
"What were they?" said the Emperor.
"What were they?"--
"Some of them were hidden," said the Empress,

"But I plainly saw the L and the U!"
"In God's name, stop!" said
the Emperor.
"You told me that it was not true!
_"Told me that you dreamed of the sea gulls flying,
Endlessly round
and round,
Waiting for the faces, and the eyes in the faces,
The eyes
of the children that we drowned._
"Kiss me and forget it," said the Emperor,
"Dry your tears on the
tassel of my sword.
I am going to offer peace to my people,
And
abdicate, perhaps, as overlord.
I shall now take up My Cross as Count
of Prussia--
Which is not a heavy burden, you'll agree.
Why, before
the twenty million dead are rotten
There'll be yachting days again for
you and me.
Cheer up!
It would mean a rope for anyone but Me."
_"Oh, take care!" said the Empress. "They are flying,
Endlessly round
and round.
They have finished with the faces, the dreadful little faces,
The little eyeless faces of the drowned."_
THE VINDICTIVE

How should we praise those lads of the old _Vindictive_
Who looked
Death straight in the eyes,
Till his gaze fell,
In those red gates of
hell?
England, in her proud history, proudly enrolls them,
And the deep
night in her remembering skies
With purer glory
Shall blazon their
grim story.
There were no throngs to applaud that hushed adventure.
They were
one to a thousand on that fierce emprise.
The