When he had gone, the gathered men dispersed; Yet two or three still lingered to dispute What errors made the Dauber's work the worst. They probed his want of knowledge to the root. "Bei Gott!" they swore, "der Dauber cannot do 't; He haf no knolich how to put der pense. Der Mate's is goot. Der Dauber haf no sense." "You hear?" the Bosun cried, "you cannot do it!" "A gospel truth," the Cook said, "true as hell! And wisdom, Dauber, if you only knew it; A five year boy would do a ship as well." "If that's the kind of thing you hope to sell, God help you," echoed Chips. "I tell you true, The job's beyond you, Dauber; drop it, do. "Drop it, in God's name drop it, and have done! You see you cannot do it. Here's the Mate Paints you to frazzles before everyone; Paints you a dandy clipper while you wait. While you, Lord love us, daub. I tell you straight, We've had enough of daubing; drop it; quit. You cannot paint, so make an end of it." "That's sense," said all; "you cannot, why pretend?" The Dauber rose and put his easel by. "You've said enough," he said, "now let it end. Who cares how bad my painting may be? I Mean to go on, and, if I fail, to try. However much I miss of my intent, If I have done my best I'll be content. "You cannot understand that. Let it be. You cannot understand, nor know, nor share. This is a matter touching only me; My sketch may be a daub, for aught I care. You may be right. But even if you were, Your mocking should not stop this work of mine; Rot though it be, its prompting is divine. "You cannot understand that--you, and you, And you, you Bosun. You can stand and jeer, That is the task your spirit fits you to, That you can understand and hold most dear. Grin, then, like collars, ear to donkey ear, But let me daub. Try, you, to understand Which task will bear the light best on God's hand." V The wester came as steady as the Trades; Brightly it blew, and still the ship did shoulder The brilliance of the water's white cockades Into the milky green of smoky smoulder. The sky grew bluer and the air grew colder. Southward she thundered while the westers held, Proud, with taut bridles, pawing, but compelled. And still the Dauber strove, though all men mocked, To draw the splendour of the passing thing, And deep inside his heart a something locked. Long pricking in him, now began to sting-- A fear of the disasters storm might bring; His rank as painter would be ended then-- He would keep watch and watch like other men. And go aloft with them to man the yard When the great ship was rolling scuppers under, Burying her snout all round the compass card, While the green water struck at her and stunned her; When the lee-rigging slacked, when one long thunder Boomed from the black to windward, when the sail Booted and spurred the devil in the gale