Tall shafts that show the sky how far away! 
  The thousand-window’d house gilded with day
  That fades to night; the arches low, the streamer
  Everywhere of the ruddy’d smoke....  Is aught
  Of loveliness so rich e’er sold and bought? 
Look visions fairer in the eyes of any dreamer?

  Needs must so rare a beauty be so brief! 
  Night comes, of this delight the subtle thief. 
  Thou canst not, Night, this same rich thievery keep;
  Seize it and look! ’tis gone, ere seized is gone—­
  Only in our warm bosoms lingering on,
A nest of precious dreams when our lids droop in sleep.

  So in her darkening loveliness is she seen
  Like an autumnal passion-haunted queen,
  Who hears, “A captain-king is at the gate”—­
  “’Tis Antony, Antony!” Then hastens she,
  Beauty to beauty adding yet, till—­see,
A queen within the queen perilous with love and fate!

SAILING OF THE GLORY

Merrily shouted all the sailors
  As they left the town behind;
Merrily shouted they and gladdened
  At the slip-slap of the wind. 
But envious were those faint home-keepers,
  Faint land-lovers, as they saw
How the Glory dipped and staggered—­
          Envying saw
Pass the ship while all her sailors
          Merrily shouted.

Far and far on eastern waters
  Sailed the ship and yet sailed on,
While the townsmen, faint land-lovers,
  Thought, “How long is’t now she’s gone? 
Now, maybe, Bombay she touches,
  Now strange craft about her throng”;
Till she grew but half-remembered,
          Gone so long: 
Quite forgot how all her sailors
          Merrily shouted.

Far in unfamiliar waters
  Ship and shipmen harbourage found,
Where the rocks creep out like robbers
  After travellers tempest-bound. 
Then those faint land-lovers murmured
  Doleful thanks not dead were they:—­
Ah, yet envious, though the Glory
          Sunken lay,
Hearing again those farewell voices
          Merrily shouting.

AT THE DOCK

They loiter round the Dock that holds yon Ship
Shuddering at the dark pool’s defiled lip
From springing bows to foam-deriding stern;
They have left her, and await her call “Return!”
Like any human mistress she has cast
Careless her ancient lovers, till at last
Perforce she calls them, and perforce they come
Like any human lovers....  Ah, what home
Know these, save in the Ship, the Ship!  She groans
Day and night with travail of their strenuous bones. 
They know her for their mother, sister, spouse,
Heart of their passion, idol of their vows;
They ward her, and she is their sure defence
‘Gainst the sad waters’ leagued malevolence. 
The Ship, the Ship:  they are her slaves, and she
Their Liege, their Faith, their Fate, their History.