They skimmed and shot, and skimmed again,
While beetles droned a dance-refrain.
The old ship pushed the mists apart,
And crawled along with throbbing heart,
Pausing from time to time for breath
Beside some jetty, still as death.
The moon rose up all reddish gold,
And lit the swirling misty fold
Of fog along the river bank,
Where grew the creepers dark and rank.