And he looked to meet the eyes that were smiling up to him,

All a-level as a new-forged blade.

"Ye are savage men and rough—from the fo'c'sle and the tent;

Ye have put High Heaven to alarm;

But I see it written clear by the road ye went,

That ye held by the Fifteenth Psalm."

And they shouted in return, "'Tis a thing we've never read,

But you passed our friends inside

That won to the end of the road we tread

Long ago when the Mons Men died."