Not a fear but all the sea-room,
Wherein time is but a bay,
Yet shall sparkle for our lee-room
In the vast Altrurian day.

And the dauntless seaworn spirit
Shall awake to know there are
What dominions to inherit,
Anchored off another star!




[Illustration]

_A Song Before Sailing_

"Cras ingens iterabimus aequor."

Wind of the dead men's feet,
Blow down the empty street
Of this old city by the sea
With news for me!

Blow me beyond the grime
And pestilence of time!
I am too sick at heart to war
With failure any more.