XXIV.

All night by moon, by morning star,

The still, black men still kept their way;

All night till morn, till burning day,

Hot Vasques follow'd fast and far.

The sun shot arrows instantly;

And men turn'd east against the sun,

And men did look and cry, "The sea!"

And Morgan look'd, nay, every one

Did look, and lift his hand, and shade

His brow and look, and look dismay'd.

Lo! looming up before the sun,

Before their eyes, yet far away,

A ship with many a tall mast lay,—

Lay resting, as if she had run

Some splendid race through seas, and won

The right to rest in salt flood bay,—

And lay until the level sun

Uprose, and then she fell away,

As mists melt in the full of day.

Old Morgan lifts his bony hand,

He does not speak or make command,—

Short time for wonder, doubt, delay;

Dark objects sudden heave in sight

As if blown out or born of night.

It is enough, they turn; away!

The sun is high, the sands are hot

To touch, and all the tawny plain,

That glistens white with salt sea sand,

Sinks white and open as they tread

And trudge, with half-averted head,

As if to swallow them amain.

They look, as men look back to land

When standing out to stormy sea,

But still keep face and murmur not;

Keep stern and still as destiny,

Or iron king of Germany.

It was a sight! A slim dog slid

White-mouth'd and still along the sand,

The pleading picture of distress.

He stopp'd, leap'd up to lick a hand,

A hard black hand that sudden chid

Him back and check'd his tenderness;

But when the black man turn'd his head

His poor mute friend had fallen dead.

The very air hung white with heat,

And white, and fair, and far away

A lifted, shining snow-shaft lay

As if to mock their mad retreat.

The white, salt sands beneath their feet

Did make the black men loom as grand,

From out the lifting, heaving heat,

As they rode sternly on and on,

As any bronze men in the land

That sit their statue steeds upon.

The men were silent as men dead.

The sun hung centred overhead,

Nor seem'd to move. It molten hung

Like some great central burner swung

From lofty beams with golden bars

In sacristy set round with stars.