With fine weather and foul weather
Another year came in;
"To take his wage," the workmen said,
"We almost count a sin."
Now March was gone, came April in,
And a sea fog settled down,
And forth sailed he on a glassy sea,
He sailed from Plymouth town.
With men and stores he put to sea,
As he was wont to do:
They showed in the fog like ghosts full faint,—
A ghostly craft and crew.
And the sea fog lay and waxed alway,
For a long eight days and more;
"God help our men," quoth the women then
"For they bide long from shore."
They paced the Hoe in doubt and dread;
"Where may our mariners be?"
But the brooding fog lay soft as down
Over the quiet sea.
A Scottish schooner made the port,
The thirteenth day at e'en;
"As I am a man," the captain cried,
"A strange sight I have seen:
"And a strange sound heard, my masters all,
At sea, in the fog and the rain,
Like shipwrights' hammers tapping low,
Then loud, then low again.
"And a stately house one instant showed,
Through a rift on the vessel's lea;
What manner of creatures may be those
That build upon the sea."
Then sighed the folk, "The Lord be praised!"
And they flocked to the shore amain:
All over the Hoe that livelong night,
Many stood out in the rain.
It ceased; and the red sun reared his head,
And the rolling fog did flee;
And, lo! in the offing faint and far
Winstanley's house at sea!