Walking Shadows: Sea Tales and Others — John Shaqi
Walking Shadows: Sea Tales and OthersNoyes, Alfred
General
Walking Shadows: Sea Tales and Others
Noyes, Alfred
Sea stories, English; Short stories, English; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
WALKING SHADOWS
_SEA TALES AND OTHERS_
BY ALFRED NOYES
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1918, by_
Alfred Noyes
_Copyright, 1918, by_
Frederick A. Stokes Company
_All Rights Reserved_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
PRELUDE xi
I. THE LIGHT-HOUSE 1
II. UNCLE HYACINTH 28
III. THE CREATIVE IMPULSE 82
IV. THE MAN FROM BUFFALO 117
V. THE _Lusitania_ WAITS 138
VI. THE LOG OF THE _Evening Star_ 151
VII. GOBLIN PEACHES 177
VIII. MAY MARGARET 205
IX. MAROONED 249
X. THE GARDEN ON THE CLIFF 281
XI. THE HAND OF THE MASTER 292
WALKING SHADOWS
_Prelude_
Of those who fought and died
Unreckoned, undescried,
Breaking no hearts but two or three that loved them;
Of multitudes that gave
Their memories to the grave,
And the unrevealing seas of night removed them;
Of those unnumbered hosts
Who smile at all our boasts
And are not blazed on any scroll of glory;
Mere out-posts in the night,
Mere keepers of the light,
Where history stops, let shadows weave a story.
Shadows, but ah, they know
That history's pomp and show
Are shadows of a shadow, gilt and painted.
They see the accepted lie
In robes of state go by.
They see the prophet stoned, the trickster sainted.
And so my shadows turn
To truths that they discern
Beyond the ordered "facts" that fame would cherish.
They walk awhile with dreams,
They follow flying gleams
And lonely lights at sea that pass and perish.
Not tragic all indeed,
Not all without remede
Of clean-edged mirth. Our Rosalie of laughter,
The bayonet of a jest,
May pierce the devil's breast,
And give us room and time for grief, here-after.
So let them weep or smile
Or kneel, or dance awhile,
Fantastic shades, by wandering fires begotten;
Remembrancers of themes
That dawn may mock as dreams.
Then let them sleep, at dawn, with the forgotten.
WALKING SHADOWS
I
THE LIGHT-HOUSE
The position of a light-house keeper, in a sea infested by submarines,
is a peculiar one; but Peter Ramsay, keeper of the _Hatchets' Light_,
had reasons for feeling that his lonely tower, six miles from the
mainland, was the happiest habitation in the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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