A KNIGHT OF THE OCEAN-SEA
Sir Humphrey Gilbert, hard of hand,
Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea,
Gazed from the rocks of his New Found Land
And thought of the home where his heart would be.
He gazed across the wintry waste
That weltered and hissed like molten lead,—
"He saileth twice who saileth in haste!
I'll wait the favour of Spring," he said.
Ever the more, ever the more,
He heard the winds and the waves roar!
Thunder on thunder shook the shore.
The yellow clots of foam went by
Like shavings that curl from a ship-wright's plane,
Clinging and flying, afar and nigh,
Shuddering, flying and clinging again.
A thousand bubbles in every one
Shifted and shimmered with rainbow gleams;
But—had they been planets and stars that spun
He had let them drift by his feet like dreams:
Heavy of heart was our Admirall,
For, out of his ships—and they were but three!—
He had lost the fairest and most tall,
And—he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.
Ever the more, ever the more,
He heard the winds and the waves roar!
Thunder on thunder shook the shore.
Heavy of heart, heavy of heart,
For she was a galleon mighty as May,
And the storm that ripped her glory apart
Had stripped his soul for the winter's way;
And he was aware of a whisper blown
From foc'sle to poop, from windward to lee,
That the fault was his, and his alone,
And—he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.
"Had he done that! Had he done this!"
And yet his mariners loved him well;
But an idle word is hard to miss,
And the foam hides more than the deep can tell.
And the deep had buried his best-loved books,
With many a hard-worn chart and plan:
And a king that is conquered must see strange looks,
So bitter a thing is the heart of man!
And—"Who will you find to pay your debt?
For a venture like this is a costly thing!
Will they stake yet more, tho' your heart be set
On the mightier voyage you planned for the Spring?"
He raised his head like a Viking crowned,—
"I'll take my old flag to her Majestie,
And she will lend me ten thousand pound
To make her Queen of the Ocean-sea!"
Ever the more, ever the more,
He heard the winds and the waves roar!
Thunder on thunder shook the shore.
Outside—they heard the great winds blow!
Outside—the blustering surf they heard,
And the bravest there would ha' blenched to know
That they must be taken at their own word.
For the great grim waves were as molten lead
—And he had two ships who sailed with three!—
"And I sail not home till the Spring," he said,
"They are all too frail for the Ocean-sea."
But the trumpeter thought of an ale-house bench,
And the cabin-boy longed for a Devonshire lane,
And the gunner remembered a green-gowned wench,
And the fos'cle whisper went round again,—
"Sir Humphrey Gilbert is hard of hand,
But his courage went down with the ship, may-be,
And we wait for the Spring in a desert land,
For—he is afraid of the Ocean-sea."
Ever the more, ever the more,
He heard the winds and the waves roar!
Thunder on thunder shook the shore.
He knew, he knew how the whisper went!
He knew he must master it, last or first!
He knew not how much or how little it meant;
But his heart was heavy and like to burst.
"Up with your sails, my sea-dogs all!
The wind has veered! And my ships," quoth he,
"They will serve for a British Admirall
Who is Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea!"
His will was like a North-east wind
That swept along our helmless crew;
But he would not stay on the Golden Hynde,
For that was the stronger ship of the two.
"My little ship's-company, lads, hath passed
Perils and storms a-many with me!
Would ye have me forsake them at the last?
They'll need a Knight of the Ocean-sea!"
Ever the more, ever the more,
We heard the winds and the waves roar!
Thunder on thunder shook the shore.
Beyond Cape Race, the pale sun splashed
The grim grey waves with silver light
Where, ever in front, his frigate crashed
Eastward, for England and the night.
And still as the dark began to fall,
Ever in front of us, running free,
We saw the sails of our Admirall
Leading us home through the Ocean-sea.
Ever the more, ever the more,
We heard the winds and the waves roar!
But he sailed on, sailed on before.
On Monday, at noon of the third fierce day
A-board our Golden Hynde he came,
With a trail of blood, marking his way
On the salt wet decks as he walked half-lame.
For a rusty nail thro' his foot had pierced.
"Come, master-surgeon, mend it for me;
Though I would it were changed for the nails that amerced
The dying thief upon Calvary."
The surgeon bathed and bound his foot,
And the master entreated him sore to stay;
But roughly he pulled on his great sea-boot
With—"The wind is rising and I must away!"
I know not why so little a thing,
When into his pinnace we helped him down,
Should make our eyelids prick and sting
As the salt spray were into them blown,
But he called as he went—"Keep watch and steer
By my lanthorn at night!" Then he waved his hand
With a kinglier watch-word, "We are as near
To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"
Ever the more, ever the more,
We heard the gathering tempest roar!
But he sailed on, sailed on before.
Three hundred leagues on our homeward road,
We strove to signal him, swooping nigh,
That he would ease his decks of their load
Of nettings and fights and artillery.
And dark and dark that night 'gan fall,
And high the muttering breakers swelled,
Till that strange fire which seamen call
"Castor and Pollux," we beheld,
An evil sign of peril and death,
Burning pale on the high main-mast;
But calm with the might of Gennesareth
Our Admirall's voice went ringing past,
Clear thro' the thunders, far and clear,
Mighty to counsel, clear to command,
Joyfully ringing, "We are as near
To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"
Ever the more, ever the more,
We heard the rising hurricane roar!
But he sailed on, sailed on before.
And over us fled the fleet of the stars,
And, ever in front of us, far or nigh,
The lanthorn on his cross-tree spars
Dipped to the Pit or soared to the Sky!
'Twould sweep to the lights of Charles's Wain,
As the hills of the deep 'ud mount and flee.
Then swoop down vanishing cliffs again
To the thundering gulfs of the Ocean-sea.
We saw it shine as it swooped from the height,
With ruining breakers on every hand,
Then—a cry came out of the black mid-night,
As near to heaven by sea as by land!
And the light was out! Like a wind-blown spark;
All in a moment! And we—and we—
Prayed for his soul as we swept thro' the dark:
For he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.
Over our fleets for evermore
The winds 'ull triumph and the waves roar!
But he sails on, sails on before!
Silence a moment held the Mermaid Inn,
Then Michael Drayton, raising a cup of wine,
Stood up and said,—"Since many have obtained
Absolute glory that have done great deeds,
But fortune is not in the power of man,
So they that, truly attempting, nobly fail,
Deserve great honour of the common-wealth.
Such glory did the Greeks and Romans give
To those that in great enterprises fell
Seeking the true commodity of their country
And profit to all mankind; for, though they failed,
Being by war, death, or some other chance,
Hindered, their images were set up in brass,
Marble and silver, gold and ivory,
In solemn temples and great palace-halls,
No less to make men emulate their virtues
Than to give honour to their just deserts.
God, from the time that He first made the world,
Hath kept the knowledge of His Ocean-sea
And the huge Æquinoctiall Continents
Reserved unto this day. Wherefore I think
No high exploit of Greece and Rome but seems
A little thing to these Discoveries
Which our adventurous captains even now
Are making, out there, Westward, in the night,
Captains most worthy of commendation,
Hugh Willoughby—God send him home again
Safe to the Mermaid!—and Dick Chauncellor,
That excellent pilot. Doubtless this man, too,
Sir Humphrey Gilbert, was worthy to be made
Knight of the Ocean-sea. I bid you all
Stand up, and drink to his immortal fame!"