The Rock Of Cloud

We heard a chanting in the fog On the frore face of the sea, And stay’d the galley like a log To sound that mystery.

And men throng’d up into the bow And hail’d the curling rack, “What demon or what spirit thou?” And the lone voice came back,

Came as of one so evil-starr’d That he hath done with grief, In monotone as keen and hard As the bell swung from a reef:

“Human I am—would I were foam— Row hither; ye may hear Yet shall not save nor bring me home Seek ye a thousand year.”

“Keep a stout hope.” “I keep no hope.” “Man alive” “Spare your toil—” “We are upon thee!” “Nay, no rope Over the gap shall coil.”

“Who art thou?” “I was Pilot once On many a ship of mark: Went aboard—spoke to none—but steer’d; And dropt off in the dark.

“But one night—Christ!—we struck—we sank. I reach’d this rock of wings Whereby from every boulder’s flank The brown sea-ribbon swings.

“Here, where the sole eye of the Sun Did scorch my body bare, A great Sea-Spirit rose, and shone In the water thrill’d with hair....

“She lay back on the green abyss Beautiful; her spread arms Soothed to a poise—a sob—of bliss Huge thunders and alarms.

“Her breasts as pearl were dull and pure, Her body’s chasted light Swam like a cloud; her eyes unsure From the great depths were bright.

“There was no thing of bitterness In aught that she could say; She call’d my soul, as down a coast The Moon calls bay beyond bay And they rise—back o’ the uttermost— Away, and yet away:—

“‘I chose thee from the sinking crews— I bore thee up alive— Now durst thou follow me and choose Under the world to dive?

“‘Come! we will catch when stars are out The black wave’s spitting crest And still, when the Bull of Dawn shall spout, Be washing on abreast;

“‘Or thee a flame under the seas Paven with suns I’ll hide, Deathless and boundless and at ease In any shape to glide.

“‘All waters that on Earth have well’d At last to me repair,— All mountains starr’d with cities melt Into my dreamy air.

“‘Set on thy peak under the brink I’ll shew thee Storms above, The stuff of kingdoms:—they shall sink While thou dost teach me love; On beaches white as the young Moons I’ll sit, and fathom love.’”...

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“And what saidst thou?” “From over sea I felt a sighing burn That made this jagg’d rock seem to me More delicate than fern;

“And faint as moth-wings I could hear Tops of the pine-tree sway And the last words spoken in mine ear Before the break of day.

“And I cried out agonied at heart For her that sleeps at home, ‘Brightness, I will not know thine art, Nor to thy country come!’

“Straightway she sank—smiling so pale— But from the seethe up-broke— Never thrash’d off by gust or gale— White, everlasting smoke.

“It feels all over me with stealth Of languor that appals; It laps my fierce heart in a wealth Of soft and rolling walls;

“This mist no life may pass, save these Wave-wing’d, with shrieking voice; Stars I discern not, nor the seas—” “O, dost not rue thy choice?”

“Rue it? Now get back to the Deep, For I doubt if men ye be: No;—I must keep a steady helm By the star I cannot see.”

Passion o’ man! we sprang to oars, And sought on, weeping loud, All night in earshot of the shores But never through the cloud.