Her captain then was I, I was her crew, The mind that laid her course, the wake she drew, The waves that rose against her bows, the gales,-- Nay, I was more: I was her very sails Rounded before the wind, her eager keel, Her straining mast-heads, her responsive wheel, Her pennon stiffened like a swallow's wing; Yes, I was all her slope and speed and swing, Whether by yellow lemons and blue sea She dawdled through the isles off Thessaly, Or saw the palms like sheaves of scimitars On desert's verge below the sunset bars, Or passed the girdle of the planet where The Southern Cross looks over to the Bear, And strayed, cool Northerner beneath strange skies, Flouting the lure of tropic estuaries, Down that long coast, and saw Magellan's Clouds arise. And some that beat up Channel homeward-bound I watched, and wondered what they might have found, What alien ports enriched their teeming hold With crates of fruit or bars of unwrought gold? And thought how London clerks with paper-clips Had filed the bills of lading of those ships, Clerks that had never seen the embattled sea, But wrote down jettison and barratry, Perils, Adventures, and the Act of God, Having no vision of such wrath flung broad; Wrote down with weary and accustomed pen The classic dangers of sea-faring men; And wrote 'Restraint of Princes,' and 'the Acts Of the King's Enemies,' as vacant facts, Blind to the ambushed seas, the encircling roar Of angry nations foaming into war. TRIO So well she knew them both! yet as she came Into the room, and heard their speech Of tragic meshes knotted with her name, And saw them, foes, but meeting each with each Closer than friends, souls bared through enmity, Beneath their startled gaze she thought that she Broke as the stranger on their conference, And stole abashed from thence. BITTERNESS Yes, they were kind exceedingly; most mild Even in indignation, taking by the hand One that obeyed them mutely, as a child Submissive to a law he does not understand. They would not blame the sins his passion wrought. No, they were tolerant and Christian, saying, 'We Only deplore ...' saying they only sought To help him, strengthen him, to show him love; but he Following them with unrecalcitrant tread, Quiet, towards their town of kind captivities, Having slain rebellion, ever turned his head Over his shoulder, seeking still with his poor eyes Her motionless figure on the road. The song Rang still between them, vibrant bell to answering bell, Full of young glory as a bugle; strong; Still brave; now breaking like a sea-bird's cry 'Farewell!' And they, they whispered kindly to him 'Come! Now we have rescued you. Let your heart heal. Forget! She was your lawless dark familiar.' Dumb, He listened, and they thought him acquiescent. Yet, (Knowing the while that they were very kind) Remembrance clamoured in him: 'She was wild and free, Magnificent in giving; she was blind To gain or loss, and, loving, loved but me,--but me!