V

Under these shouldering rows of stone That notch the quiet sky; Under the asphalt's transient seal The same old mud-flats lie; And I have felt them surge and lift At night as I passed by.

Yes, I have seen them sprawling nude While an Autumn moon hung chill, And the tide came shuddering in from sea, Lift by lift, until It held them under a silver mesh, Responsive to its will.

Then slowly out from the crowding walls I have seen the gibbets grow, And stand against the empty sky In a desolate, windblown row, While their dancers swayed, and turned, and spun, Tripping it heel and toe;

With a flash of gold where the peering moon Saw an earring as it swung, And a silver line that leapt and died Where the salt-white sea-boots hung, And the pitiful, nodding, silent heads, With half of their songs unsung.

D.H.

See the note on the pirates.