The star fleets tack and wheel and veer, But on, but on does the old earth steer God, dear God! Does she know her port, Or blind astray, does she make her sport To brazen and chance it out? I watched when her captains passed: She were better captainless. Men in the cabin, before the mast, But some were reckless and some aghast, By her battened hatch I leaned and caught Sounds from the noisome hold, Cursing and sighing of souls distraught And cries too sad to be told. Then I strove to go down and see; 45 54 I turned to those on the deck with me Jill-o'er-the-ground is purple blue, Blue is the quaker-maid, The alder-clump where the brook comes through Breeds cresses in its shade. To be out of the moiling street With its swelter and its sin! Who has given to me this sweet, Scattering wide or blown in ranks, Boats and boats from the fishing banks There is cash to purse and spend, Hearts to borrow and hearts to lend, And hearts to take and keep to the end,- But thou, vast outbound ship of souls, What shapes, when thy arriving tolls, Shall all the happy shipmates then Stand singing brotherly? Or shall a haggard ruthless few And nothing to say or do? 1 William Vaughn Moody. Picture that orchard sprite, Wondering, listening, Oh had our simple Eve Seen through the make-believe! Out of the boughs he came, 40 32 Picture the lewd delight Under the hill to-night- Ralph Hodgson. 64 THE LISTENERS "IS THERE anybody there?" said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses Of the forest's ferny floor: And a bird flew up out of the turret, Above the Traveller's head: 5 And he smote upon the door again a second time; "Is there anybody there?" he said. But no one descended to the Traveller; No head from the leaf-fringed sill Leaned over and looked into his gray eyes, 10 |