Steals through the port-holes from the open sea.
Then, with sure foresight, seeing the clash to come,
The strange young man with the determined mouth
And quick dark eyes rose grimly, and flung down
A single sentence, like a gyve of steel
Wrenched from the wrists to set the strong hands free
For whatsoever need might rise, if clock
And Zeitgeist changed their quiet Not Yet to Now.
“A general audience, sir, where sentiment
May interfere, unduly interfere,