A SONG OF TRAVEL

Where’s the lamp that Hero lit
  Once to call Leander home? 
Equal Time hath shovelled it
  ’Neath the wrack of Greece and Rome. 
Neither wait we any more
That worn sail which Argo bore.

Dust and dust of ashes close
  All the Vestal Virgins’ care;
And the oldest altar shows
  But an older darkness there. 
Age-encamped Oblivion
Tenteth every light that shone!

Yet shall we, for Suns that die,
  Wall our wanderings from desire? 
Or, because the Moon is high. 
  Scorn to use a nearer fire? 
Lest some envious Pharaoh stir,
Make our lives our sepulchre?

Nay!  Though Time with petty Fate
  Prison us and Emperors,
By our Arts do we create
  That which Time himself devours—­
Such machines as well may run
’Gainst the horses of the Sun.

When we would a new abode,
  Space, our tyrant King no more,
Lays the long lance of the road
  At our feet and flees before,
Breathless, ere we overwhelm,
  To submit a further realm!

THE TWO-SIDED MAN

Much I owe to the Land that grew—­
More to the Life that fed—­
But most to Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head.

Much I reflect on the Good and the True
In the Faiths beneath the sun,
But most upon Allah Who gave me two
Sides to my head, not one.

Wesley’s following, Calvin’s flock,
White or yellow or bronze,
Shaman, Ju-ju or Angekok,
Minister, Mukamuk, Bonze—­

Here is a health, my brothers, to you,
However your prayers are said,
And praised be Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head!

I would go without shirt or shoe,
Friend, tobacco or bread,
Sooner than lose for a minute the two
Separate sides of my head!

‘LUKANNON’

(Song of the breeding Seal.  Aleutian Islands)

I met my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!)
Where roaring on the ledges the summer ground-swell rolled. 
I heard them lift the chorus that drowned the breakers’ song—­
The Beaches of Lukannon—­two million voices strong!

The song of pleasant stations beside the salt lagoons, The song of blowing squadrons that shuffled down the dunes, The song of midnight dances that churned the sea to flame—­ The Beaches of Lukannon—­before the sealers came!

I met my mates in the morning (I’ll never meet them more!);
They came and went in legions that darkened all the shore. 
And through the foam-flecked offing as far as voice could reach
We hailed the landing-parties and we sang them up the beach.

The Beaches of Lukannon—­the winter-wheat so tall—­ The dripping, crinkled lichens, and the sea-fog drenching all!  The platforms of our playground, all shining smooth and worn!  The Beaches of Lukannon—­the home where we were born!