The Story of a Round-House, and Other Poems

by John Masefield

Si begged for pardon, meekly kneeling down

Before the reefer's mess assembled grim.

The lamp above them smoked the glass all brown;

Beyond the door the dripping sails were dim.

The Dauber passed the door; none spoke to him.

He sought his berth and slept, or, waking, heard

Rain on the deck-house--rain, no other word.

IV

Our of the air a time of quiet came,

Calm fell upon the heaven like a drouth;