Page:Poems Bacon.djvu/45

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THE OLD CAPTIVE
Never to feel the great sail fill and stretch,
Nor plough white fiery trails beneath the stars,
Nor float below some tow'ring rosy berg,
Nor ride the sheer gulfs of the stormy Sea!

  And they rushed down to the beach to drag us in,
  And they pulled hard at the rough and glistening rope,
  And the glad keel rubbed harsh on the shelly sand,
  And their arms strained us, home from the terrible Sea!

Though in my life I lost thee, tired and dead,
Me they shall bring to thee, O long desired!
Me they shall lay at sunset on the sand,
Where the strong tide swings outward to the Sea.

Me like a cradled child the waves shall rock,
Rock 'neath the moon, and sink to those dim caves,
Those wide green glooms, those clear and pallid depths,
The silence and the strange flowers of the Sea.

  And they shall bear me down with a glorious song,
  And they shall shout to the crash and boom of the surf,
  And they shall thrill to the whip and sting of the spray,
  While the great waves ride triumphing out to Sea!

Where the pale light strains down through undreamed deeps
To glimmer o'er the vast unpeopled plains,

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