But the ensign that had mocked us With its symbol of the dead Fluttered and dropped to the bloody deck, And a white square spoke instead. Home from the kill we thundered On the tail of the equinox, To the thrum of straining canvas, And the whine and groan of blocks. Leaping clear of the shallows, Chancing the creaming bars, We heard the first faint cheering As the late sun limned our spars. Safe in the lee of the city We moored in the afterglow, The _Sea Nymph_ and the _Henry_ With the buccaneers in tow. Glad we had been in the going, But God! it was good to come Out of the sky-wide loneliness To the walls and lights of home. V Under these shouldering rows of stone That notch the quiet sky; Under the asphalt's transient seal The same old mud-flats lie; And I have felt them surge and lift At night as I passed by. Yes, I have seen them sprawling nude While an Autumn moon hung chill, And the tide came shuddering in from sea, Lift by lift, until It held them under a silver mesh, Responsive to its will. Then slowly out from the crowding walls I have seen the gibbets grow, And stand against the empty sky In a desolate, windblown row, While their dancers swayed, and turned, and spun, Tripping it heel and toe; With a flash of gold where the peering moon Saw an earring as it swung, And a silver line that leapt and died Where the salt-white sea-boots hung, And the pitiful, nodding, silent heads, With half of their songs unsung. D.H. [2] See the note on the pirates. THE SEWEES OF SEWEE BAY[3] _"And these squaws, waiting in vain the return of their husbands, sought out braves among the other tribes, and so men say the Sewees have become Wandos."_ "One flask of rum for fifty muskrat skins! A horn of powder for a bear's is not enough; A whole winter's hunting for some blanket stuff-- Ugh!" said the Sewee Chief, "The pale-face is a thief!" Ever, from the north-north-east, The great winged canoes Swept landward from the shining water Into Bull's Bay, Where the poor Sewees trapped the otter, Or took the giant oysters for their feast-- Ever the ships came from the north and east. Surely, at morning, when they walked the beaches, Over the smoky-silver, whispering reaches, Where the ships came from, loomed a land, Far-off, one mountain-top, away Where the great camp-fire sun made day: "There are the pale-face lodges," they would say. So all one winter Was great hunting on that shore; Much maize was pounded, And of acorn oil great store Was tried; And collops of smoked deer meat set aside, And skins and furs, And furs and skins, And bales of furs beside.