PART III
"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time! 145
How glazed each weary eye,
When, looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.
"At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist; 150
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.[23]
"A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared;
As if it dodged a water-sprite, 155
It plunged and tacked and veered,
"With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, 160
And cried, 'A sail! a sail!'
"With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape[24] they heard me call:
Gramercy![25] they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in, 165
As they were drinking all.
"See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal,[26]
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel! 170
"The western wave was all a-flame,
The day was well-nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly 175
Betwixt us and the Sun.
"And straight[27] the Sun was flecked with bars,[28]
(Heaven's Mother[29] send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon grate he peered
With broad and burning face. 180
"Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres?[30]