And again the desert bliss,
Lightens thro' his veins, and he is gone!
George Meredith
[399]. "He Told of Waves." (line 28)
So, too, does the Ship's Captain in yet such another ore-loaden poem of the marvellous, "The Sale of St. Thomas," by Lascelles Abercrombie, telling how the saint in terror of the unknown would turn back from his mission, is rebuked by his Master, and sold by him for twenty pieces of silver to the Captain of a slant-sailed vessel bound for the barbarous Indies. Here is but a fragment of the poem:
"... A Ship's Captain.You are my man, my passenger?
Thomas.I am.
I go to India with you.
Captain.Well, I hope so.
There's threatening in the weather. Have you a mind