The fore-topgallant yard far, far aloft, And blankness settling on him and great pain; And snow beneath his fingers wet and soft And topsail-sheet-blocks shaking at the chain. He knew it was he who had fallen; then his brain Swirled in a circle while he watched the sky. Infinite multitudes of snow blew by. "I thought it was Tom who fell," his brain's voice said. "Down on the bloody deck!" the Captain screamed. The multitudinous little snow-flakes sped. His pain was real enough, but all else seemed. Si with a bucket ran, the water gleamed Tilting upon him; others came, the Mate ... They knelt with eager eyes like things that wait For other things to come. He saw them there. "It will go on," he murmured, watching Si. Colours and sounds seemed mixing in the air, The pain was stunning him, and the wind went by. "More water," said the Mate. "Here, Bosun, try. Ask if he's got a message. Hell, he's gone! Here, Dauber, paints." He said, "It will go on." Not knowing his meaning rightly, but he spoke With the intenseness of a fading soul Whose share of Nature's fire turns to smoke, Whose hand on Nature's wheel loses control. The eager faces glowered red like coal. They glowed, the great storm glowed, the sails, the mast. "It will go on," he cried aloud, and passed. Those from the yard came down to tell the tale. "He almost had me off," said Tom. "He slipped. There come one hell of a jump-like from the sail.... He clutched at me and almost had me pipped. He caught my 'ris'band, but the oilskin ripped.... It tore clean off. Look here. I was near gone. I made a grab to catch him; so did John. "I caught his arm. My God! I was near done. He almost had me over; it was near. He hit the ropes and grabbed at every one." "Well," said the Mate, "we cannot leave him here. Run, Si, and get the half-deck table clear. We'll lay him there. Catch hold there, you, and you. He's dead, poor son; there's nothing more to do," Night fell, and all night long the Dauber lay Covered upon the table; all night long The pitiless storm exulted at her prey, Huddling the waters with her icy thong. But to the covered shape she did no wrong. He lay beneath the sailcloth. Bell by bell The night wore through; the stars rose, the stars fell. Blowing most pitiless cold out of clear sky The wind roared all night long; and all night through The green seas on the deck went washing by, Flooding the half-deck; bitter hard it blew. But little of it all the Dauber knew-- The sopping bunks, the floating chests, the wet, The darkness, and the misery, and the sweat.