Collected Poems Volume I Part 44

'Tis a thousand to one against us: we'll turn to the West again!

We have captured a China pilot, his charts and his golden keys: We'll sail to the golden Gateway, over the golden seas._

Over the immeasurable molten gold Wrapped in a golden haze, onward they drew; And now they saw the tiny purple quay Grow larger and darker and brighten into brown Across the swelling sparkle of the waves.

Brown on the quay, a train of tethered mules Munched at the nose-bags, while a Spaniard drowsed On guard beside what seemed at first a heap Of fish, then slowly turned to silver bars Up-piled and glistering in the enchanted sun.

Nor did that sentry wake as, like a dream, The _Golden Hynde_ divided the soft sleep Of warm green lapping water, sidled up, Sank sail, and moored beside the quay. But Drake, Lightly leaping ash.o.r.e and stealing nigh, Picked up the Spaniard's long gay-ribboned gun Close to his ear. At once, without a sound, The watchman opened his dark eyes and stared As at strange men who suddenly had come, Borne by some magic carpet, from the stars; Then, with a courtly bow, his right hand thrust Within the lace embroideries of his breast.

Politely Drake, with pained apologies For this disturbance of a cavalier Napping on guard, straightway resolved to make Complete amends, by now relieving him Of these--which doubtless troubled his repose-- These anxious bars of silver. With that word Two seamen leaped ash.o.r.e and, gathering up The bars in a stout old patch of tawny sail, Slung them aboard. No sooner this was done Than out o' the valley, like a foolish jest Out of the mouth of some great John-a-dreams, In soft procession of buffoonery A woolly train of llamas proudly came Stepping by two and two along the quay, Laden with pack on pack of silver bars And driven by a Spaniard. His amaze The seamen greeted with profuser thanks For his most punctual thought and opportune Courtesy. None the less they must avouch It pained them much to see a cavalier Turned carrier; and, at once, they must insist On easing him of that too sordid care.

Then out from Tarapaca once again They sailed, their hold a glimmering mine of wealth, Towards Arica and Lima, where they deemed The prize of prizes waited unaware.

For every year a gorgeous galleon sailed With all the harvest of Potosi's mines And precious stones from dead king's diadems, Aztecs' and Incas' gem-encrusted crowns, Pearls from the glimmering Temples of the Moon, Rich opals with their milky rainbow-clouds, White diamonds from the Temples of the Sun, Carbuncles flaming scarlet, amethysts, Rubies, and sapphires; these to Spain she brought To glut her priestly coffers. Now not far Ahead they deemed she lay upon that coast, Crammed with the l.u.s.trous Indies, wrung with threat And torture from the naked Indian slaves.

To him that spied her top-sails first a prize Drake offered of the wondrous chain he wore; And every seaman, every ship-boy, watched Not only for the prize, but for their friends, If haply these had weathered through the storm.

Nor did they know their friends had homeward turned, Bearing to England and to England's Queen, And his heart's queen, the tale that Drake was dead.

Northward they cruised along a warm, wild coast That like a most luxurious G.o.ddess drowsed Supine to heaven, her arms behind her head, One knee up-thrust to make a mountain-peak, Her rosy b.r.e.a.s.t.s up-heaving their soft snow In distant Andes, and her naked side With one rich curve for half a hundred leagues Bathed by the creaming foam; her heavy hair Fraught with the perfume of a thousand forests Tossed round about her beauty: and her mouth A scarlet mystery of distant flower Up-turned to take the kisses of the sun.

But like a troop of boys let loose from school The adventurers went by, startling the stillness Of that voluptuous dream-enc.u.mbered sh.o.r.e With echoing shouts of laughter and alien song.

But as they came to Arica, from afar They heard the clash of bells upon the breeze, And knew that Rumour with her thousand wings Had rushed before them. Hors.e.m.e.n in the night Had galloped through the white coast-villages And spread the dreadful cry "El Draque!" abroad, And when the gay adventurers drew nigh They found the quays deserted, and the ships All flown, except one little fishing-boat Wherein an old man like a tortoise moved A wrinkled head above the rusty net His crawling hands repaired. He seemed to dwell Outside the world of war and peace, outside Everything save his daily task, and cared No whit who else might win or lose; for all The pilot asked of him without demur He answered, scarcely looking from his work.

A galleon laden with eight hundred bars Of silver, not three hours ago had flown Northward, he muttered. Ere the words were out, The will of Drake thrilled through the _Golden Hynde_ Like one sharp trumpet-call, and ere they knew What power impelled them, crowding on all sail Northward they surged, and roaring down the wind At Chiuli, port of Arequipa, saw The chase at anchor. Wondering they came With all the gunners waiting at their guns Bare-armed and silent--nearer, nearer yet,-- Close to the enemy. But no sight or sound Of living creature stirred upon her decks.

Only a great grey cat lay in the sun Upon a warm smooth cannon-b.u.t.t. A chill Ran through the veins of even the boldest there At that too peaceful silence. Cautiously Drake neared her in his pinnace: cautiously, Cutla.s.s in hand, up that mysterious hull He clomb, and wondered, as he climbed, to breathe The friendly smell o' the pitch and hear the waves With their incessant old familiar sound Crackling and slapping against her windward flank.

A ship of dreams was that; for when they reached The silent deck, they saw no crouching forms, They heard no sound of life. Only the hot Creak of the cordage whispered in the sun.

The cat stood up and yawned, and slunk away Slowly, with furtive glances. The great hold Was empty, and the rich cabin stripped and bare.

Suddenly one of the seamen with a cry Pointed where, close insh.o.r.e, a little boat Stole towards the town; and, with a louder cry, Drake bade his men aboard the _Golden Hynde_.

Scarce had they pulled two hundred yards away When, with a roar that seemed to buffet the heavens And rip the heart of the sea out, one red flame Blackened with fragments, the great galleon burst Asunder! All the startled waves were strewn With wreckage; and Drake laughed-- "My lads, we have diced With death to-day, and won! My merry lads, It seems that Spain is bolting with the stakes!

Now, if I have to stretch the skies for sails And summon the blasts of G.o.d up from the South To fill my canvas, I will overhaul Those dusky devils with the treasure-ship That holds our hard-earned booty. Pull hard all, Hard for the _Golden Hynde_."

And so they came At dead of night on Callao de Lima!

They saw the harbour lights across the waves Glittering, and the shadowy hulks of ships Gathered together like a flock of sheep Within the port. With shouts and clink of chains A shadowy ship was entering from the North, And like the shadow of that shadow slipped The _Golden Hynde_ beside her thro' the gloom; And side by side they anch.o.r.ed in the port Amidst the shipping! Over the dark tide A small boat from the customs-house drew near.

A sleepy, yawning, gold-laced officer Boarded the _Golden Hynde_, and with a cry, Stumbling against a cannon-b.u.t.t, he saw The bare-armed British seamen in the gloom All waiting by their guns. Wildly he plunged Over the side and urged his boat away, Crying, "El Draque! El Draque!" At that dread word The darkness filled with clamour, and the ships, Cutting their cables, drifted here and there In mad attempts to seek the open sea.

Wild lights burnt hither and thither, and all the port, One furnace of confusion, heaved and seethed In terror; for each shadow of the night, Nay, the great night itself, was all _El Draque_.

The Dragon's wings were spread from quay to quay, The very lights that burnt from mast to mast And flared across the tide kindled his breath To fire; while here and there a British pinnace Slipped softly thro' the roaring gloom and glare, Ransacking ship by ship; for each one thought A fleet had come upon them. Each gave up The struggle as each was boarded; while, elsewhere, Cannon to cannon, friends bombarded friends.

Yet not one ounce of treasure in Callao They found; for, fourteen days before they came, That greatest treasure-ship of Spain, with all The gorgeous harvest of that year, had sailed For Panama: her ballast--silver bars; Her cargo--rubies, emeralds, and gold.

Out through the clamour and the darkness, out, Out to the harbour mouth, the _Golden Hynde_, Steered by the iron soul of Drake, returned: And where the way was blocked, her cannon clove A crimson highway to the midnight sea.

Then Northward, Northward, o'er the jewelled main, Under the white moon like a storm they drove In quest of the _Cacafuego_. Fourteen days Her start was; and at dawn the fair wind sank, And chafing lay the _Golden Hynde_, becalmed; While, on the hills, the Viceroy of Peru Marched down from Lima with two thousand men, And sent out four huge ships of war to sink Or capture the fierce Dragon. Loud laughed Drake To see them creeping nigh, urged with great oars, Then suddenly pause; for none would be the first To close with him. And, ere they had steeled their hearts To battle, a fair breeze broke out anew, And Northward sped the little _Golden Hynde_ In quest of the lordliest treasure-ship of Spain.

Behind her lay a world in arms; for now Wrath and confusion clamoured for revenge From sea to sea. Spain claimed the pirate's head From England, and awaited his return With all her tortures. And where'er he pa.s.sed He sowed the dragon's teeth, and everywhere Cadmean broods of armed men arose And followed, followed on his fiery trail.

Men toiled at Lima to fit out a fleet Grim enough to destroy him. All night long The flare went up from cities on the coast Where men like naked devils toiled to cast Cannon that might have overwhelmed the powers Of Michael when he drave that hideous rout Through livid chaos to the black abyss.

Small hope indeed there seemed of safe return; But Northward sped the little _Golden Hynde_, The world-watched midget ship of eighteen guns, Undaunted; and upon the second dawn Sighted a galleon, not indeed the chase, Yet worth a pause; for out of her they took-- Embossed with emeralds large as pigeon's eggs-- A golden crucifix, with eighty pounds In weight of gold. The rest they left behind; And onward, onward, to the North they flew-- A score of golden miles, a score of green, An hundred miles, eight hundred miles of foam, Rainbows and fire, ransacking as they went Ship after ship for news o' the chase and gold; Learning from every capture that they drew Nearer and nearer. At Truxillo, dim And dreaming city, a-drowse with purple flowers, She had paused, ay, paused to take a freight of gold!

At Paita--she had pa.s.sed two days in front, Only two days, two days ahead; nay, one!

At Quito, close insh.o.r.e, a youthful page, Bright-eyed, ran up the rigging and cried, "A sail!

A sail! The _Cacafuego_! And the chain Is mine!" And by the strange cut of her sails, Whereof they had been told in Callao, They knew her!

Heavily laden with her gems, Lazily drifting with her golden fruitage, Over the magic seas they saw her hull Loom as they onward drew; but Drake, for fear The prey might take alarm and run ash.o.r.e, Trailed wine-skins, filled with water, over the side To hold his ship back, till the darkness fell, And with the night the off-sh.o.r.e wind arose.

At last the sun sank down, the rosy light Faded from Andes' peaked and bosomed snow: The night-wind rose: the wine-skins were up-hauled; And, like a hound unleashed, the _Golden Hynde_ Leapt forward thro' the gloom.

A cable's length Divided them. The _Cacafuego_ heard A rough voice in the darkness bidding her _Heave to!_ She held her course. Drake gave the word.

A broadside shattered the night, and over her side Her main-yard clattered like a broken wing!

On to her decks the British sea-dogs swarmed, Cutla.s.s in hand: that fight was at an end.

The ship was cleared, a prize crew placed a-board, Then both ships turned their heads to the open sea.

At dawn, being out of sight of land, they 'gan Examine the great prize. None ever knew Save Drake and Gloriana what wild wealth They had captured there. Thus much at least was known: An hundredweight of gold, and twenty tons Of silver bullion; thirteen chests of coins; Nuggets of gold unnumbered; countless pearls, Diamonds, emeralds; but the worth of these Was past all reckoning. In the crimson dawn, Ringed with the lonely pomp of sea and sky, The naked-footed seamen bathed knee-deep In gold and gathered up Aladdin's fruit-- All-colored gems--and tossed them in the sun.

The hold like one great elfin orchard gleamed With dusky globes and tawny glories piled, Hesperian apples, heap on mellow heap, Rich with the hues of sunset, rich and ripe And ready for the enchanted cider-press; An Emperor's ransom in each burning orb; A kingdom's purchase in each cl.u.s.tered bough; The freedom of all slaves in every chain.

BOOK VI

Now like the soul of Ophir on the sea Glittered the _Golden Hynde_, and all her heart Turned home to England. As a child that finds A ruby ring upon the highway, straight Homeward desires to run with it, so she Yearned for her home and country. Yet the world Was all in arms behind her. Fleet on fleet Awaited her return. Along the coast The very churches melted down their chimes And cast them into cannon. To the South A thousand cannon watched Magellan's straits, And fleets were scouring all the sea like hounds, With orders that where'er they came on Drake, Although he were the Dragon of their dreams, They should out-blast his thunders and convey, Dead or alive, his body back to Spain.

And Drake laughed out and said, "My trusty lads Of Devon, you have made the wide world ring With England's name; you have swept one half the seas From sky to sky; and in our oaken hold You have packed the gorgeous Indies. We shall sail But slowly with such wealth. If we return, We are one against ten thousand! We will seek The fabled Northern pa.s.sage, take our gold Safe home; then out to sea again and try Our guns against their guns."

And as they sailed Northward, they swooped on warm blue Guatulco For food and water. Nigh the dreaming port The grand alcaldes in high conclave sat, Blazing with gold and scarlet, as they tried A batch of negro slaves upon the charge Of idleness in Spanish mines; dumb slaves, With bare scarred backs and labour-broken knees, And sorrowful eyes like those of wearied kine Spent from the ploughing. Even as the judge Rose to condemn them to the knotted lash The British boat's crew, quiet and compact, Entered the court. The grim judicial glare Grew wider with amazement, and the judge Staggered against his gilded throne.

"I thank Almighty G.o.d," cried Drake, "who hath given me this --That I who once, in ignorance, procured Slaves for the golden bawdy-house of Spain, May now, in England's name, help to requite That wrong. For now I say in England's name, Where'er her standard flies, the slave shall stand Upright, the shackles fall from off his limbs.

Unyoke the prisoners: tell them they are men Once more, not beasts of burden. Set them free; But take these gold and scarlet popinjays Aboard my _Golden Hynde_; and let them write An order that their town shall now provide My boats with food and water."

This being done, The slaves being placed in safety on the prize, The _Golden Hynde_ revictualled and the casks Replenished with fresh water, Drake set free The judges and swept Northward once again; And, off the coast of Nicaragua, found A sudden treasure better than all gold; For on the track of the China trade they caught A ship whereon two China pilots sailed, And in their cabin lay the secret charts, Red hieroglyphs of Empire, unknown charts Of silken sea-roads down the golden West Where all roads meet and East and West are one.

And, with that mystery stirring in their hearts Like a strange cry from home, Northward they swept And Northward, till the soft luxurious coasts Hardened, the winds grew bleak, the great green waves Loomed high like mountains round them, and the spray Froze on their spars and yards. Fresh from the warmth Of tropic seas the men could hardly brook That cold; and when the floating hills of ice Like huge green shadows crowned with ghostly snow Went past them with strange whispers in the gloom, Or took mysterious colours in the dawn, Their hearts misgave them, and they found no way; But all was iron sh.o.r.e and icy sea.

And one by one the crew fell sick to death In that fierce winter, and the land still ran Westward and showed no pa.s.sage. Tossed with storms, Onward they plunged, or furrowed gentler tides Of ice-lit emerald that made the prow A faery beak of some enchanted ship Flinging wild rainbows round her as she drove Thro' seas unsailed by mortal mariners, Past isles unhailed of any human voice, Where sound and silence mingled in one song Of utter solitude. Ever as they went The flag of England blazoned the broad breeze, Northward, where never ship had sailed before, Northward, till lost in helpless wonderment, Dazed as a soul awakening from the dream Of death to some wild dawn in Paradise (Yet burnt with cold as they whose very tears Freeze on their faces where Cocytus wails) All world-worn, bruised, wing-broken, wracked, and wrenched, Blackened with lightning, scarred as with evil deeds, But all embalmed in beauty by that sun Which never sets, bosomed in peace at last The _Golden Hynde_ rocked on a glittering calm.

Seas that no ship had ever sailed, from sky To glistening sky, swept round them. Glory and gleam, Glamour and lucid rapture and diamond air Embraced her broken spars, begrimed with gold Her gloomy hull, rocking upon a sphere New made, it seemed, mysterious with the first Mystery of the world, where holy sky And sacred sea shone like the primal Light Of G.o.d, a-stir with whispering sea-bird's wings And glorious with clouds. Only, all day, All night, the rhythmic utterance of His will In the deep sigh of seas that washed His throne, Rose and relapsed across Eternity, Timed to the pulse of aeons. All their world Seemed strange as unto us the great new heavens And glittering sh.o.r.es, if on some aery bark To Saturn's coasts we came and traced no more The tiny gleam of our familiar earth Far off, but heard tremendous oceans roll Round unimagined continents, and saw Terrible mountains unto which our Alps Were less than mole-hills, and such gaunt ravines Cleaving them and such cataracts roaring down As burst the gates of our earth-moulded senses, Pour the eternal glory on our souls, And, while ten thousand chariots bring the dawn, Hurl us poor midgets trembling to our knees.

Glory and glamour and rapture of lucid air, Ice cold, with subtle colours of the sky Embraced her broken spars, belted her hulk With brilliance, while she dipped her jacinth beak In waves of mounded splendour, and sometimes A great ice-mountain flashed and floated by Throned on the waters, pinnacled and crowned With all the smouldering jewels in the world; Or in the darkness, glimmering berg on berg, All emerald to the moon, went by like ghosts Whispering to the South.

There, as they lay, Waiting a wind to fill the stiffened sails, Their hearts remembered that in England now The Spring was nigh, and in that lonely sea The skilled musicians filled their eyes with home.

SONG

I

_It is the Spring-tide now!

Under the hawthorn-bough The milkmaid goes: Her eyes are violets blue Washed with the morning dew, Her mouth a rose.

It is the Spring-tide now._

II

_The lanes are growing sweet, The lambkins frisk and bleat In all the meadows: The glossy dappled kine Blink in the warm sunshine, Cooling their shadows.

It is the Spring-tide now._

III

_Soon hand in sunburnt hand Thro' G.o.d's green fairyland, England, our home, Whispering as they stray Adown the primrose way, Lovers will roam.

It is the Spring-tide now._

And then, with many a chain of linked sweetness, Harmonious gold, they drew their hearts and souls Back, back to England, thoughts of wife and child, Mother and sweetheart and the old companions, The twisted streets of London and the deep Delight of Devon lanes, all softly voiced In words or cadences, made them breathe hard And gaze across the everlasting sea, Craving for that small isle so far away.