Amid regrets for last night, when the moon, Risen on the soft dusk, shone on maidens' feet Brushing the gold-heart lilies to the tune Of pipes complaining, o'er the grass down-beat That mixed with dewy flowers its odour sweet, The shipmen laboured, till the sail unfurled Swung round the prow to meet another world. But ere the anchor had come home, a shout Rang from the strand, as though the ship were hailed. Whereat the master bade them stay, in doubt That they without some needful thing had sailed; When, lo! from where the cliff's steep grey sides failed Into a ragged stony slip, came twain Who seemed in haste the ready keel to gain. Soon they drew nigh, and he who first came down Unto the surf was a man huge of limb, Grey-eyed, with crisp-curled hair 'twixt black and brown, Who had a lion's skin cast over him, So wrought with gold that the fell showed but dim Betwixt the threads, and in his hand he bore A mighty club with bands of steel done o'er. Panting there followed him a grey old man, Bearing a long staff, clad in gown of blue, Feeble of aspect, hollow-cheeked and wan, Who when unto his fellow's side he drew, Said faintly: "Now, do that which thou shouldst do; This is the ship." Then in the other's eye A smile gleamed, and he spake out merrily: "Masters, folk tell me that ye make for Tyre, And after that still nearer to the sun; And since Fate bids me look to die by fire, Fain am I, ere my worldly day be done, To know what from earth's hottest can be won; And this old man, my kinsman, would with me. How say ye, will ye bear us o'er the sea?" "What is thy name?" the master said: "And know That we are merchants, and for nought give nought; What wilt thou pay?--thou seem'st full rich, I trow." The old man muttered, stooped adown and caught At something in the sand: "E'en so I thought," The younger said, "when I set out from home-- As to my name, perchance in days to come "Thou shalt know that--but have heed, take this toy, And call me the Strong Man." And as he spake The master's deep-brown eyes 'gan gleam with joy, For from his arm a huge ring did he take, And cast it on the deck, where it did break A water-jar, and in the wet shards lay Golden, and gleaming like the end of day. But the old man held out a withered hand, Wherein there shone two pearls most great and fair, And said, "If any nigher I might stand, Then might'st thou see the things I give thee here-- And for a name--a many names I bear, But call me Shepherd of the Shore this tide, And for more knowledge with a good will bide."