I meet my mates in the morning, a broken, scattered band. 
Men shoot us in the water and club us on the land;
Men drive us to the Salt House like silly sheep and tame,
And still we sing Lukannon—­before the sealers came.

Wheel down, wheel down to southward!  Oh, Gooverooska go!  And tell the Deep-Sea Viceroys the story of our woe; Ere, empty as the shark’s egg the tempest flings ashore, The Beaches of Lukannon shall know their sons no more!

AN ASTROLOGER’S SONG

To the Heavens above us
  O look and behold
The Planets that love us
  All harnessed in gold! 
What chariots, what horses,
  Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
  Do fight on our side?

All thought, all desires,
  That are under the sun,
Are one with their fires,
  As we also are one. 
All matter, all spirit,
  All fashion, all frame,
Receive and inherit
  Their strength from the same.

Oh, man that deniest
  All power save thine own,
Their power in the highest
  Is mightily shown. 
Not less in the lowest
  That power is made clear
(Oh, man, if thou knowest,
  What treasure is here!)

Earth quakes in her throes
  And we wonder for why. 
But the blind planet knows
  When her ruler is nigh;
And, attuned since Creation
  To perfect accord,
She thrills in her station
  And yearns to her Lord.

The waters have risen,
  The springs are unbound—­
The floods break their prison,
  And ravin around. 
No rampart withstands ’em,
  Their fury will last,
Till the Sign that commands ’em
  Sinks low or swings past.

Through abysses unproven,
  O’er gulfs beyond thought,
Our portion is woven,
  Our burden is brought. 
Yet They that prepare it,
  Whose Nature we share,
Make us who must bear it
  Well able to bear.

Though terrors o’ertake us
  We’ll not be afraid. 
No Power can unmake us
  Save that which has made. 
Nor yet beyond reason
  Or hope shall we fall—­
All things have their season,
  And Mercy crowns all!

Then, doubt not, ye fearful—­
  The Eternal is King—­
Up, heart, and be cheerful,
  And lustily sing:—­
What chariots, what horses,
  Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
  Do fight on our side?

‘THE POWER OF THE DOG’

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—­
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.