The Derelict
I was the staunchest of our fleetTill the Sea rose beneath our feetUnheralded, in hatred past all measure.Into his pits he stamped my crew,Buffeted, blinded, bound and threw;Bidding me eyeless wait upon his pleasure.
Man made me, and my willIs to my maker still,Whom now the currents con, the rollers steer—Lifting forlorn to spyTrailed smoke along the sky,Falling afraid lest any keel come near.
Wrenched as the lips of thirst,Wried, dried, and split and burst,Bone-bleached my decks, wind-scoured to the graining;And, jarred at every roll,The gear that was my soulAnswers the anguish of my beams' complaining.
For life that crammed me full,Gangs of the prying gullThat shriek and scrabble on the riven hatches.For roar that dumbed the galeMy hawse-pipes guttering wail,Sobbing my heart out through the uncounted watches.
Blind in the hot blue ringThrough all my points I swing—Swing and return to shift the sun anew.Blind in my well-known skyI hear the stars go by,Mocking the prow that can not hold one true!
White on my wasted pathWave after wave in wrathFrets 'gainst his fellow, warring where to send me.Flung forward, heaved aside,Witless and dazed I bideThe mercy of the comber that shall end me.
North where the bergs careen,The spray of seas unseenSmokes round my head and freezes in the falling;South where the corals breed,The footless, floating weedFolds me and fouls me, strake on strake upcrawling.
I that was clean to runMy race against the sun—Strength on the deep, am bawd to all disaster—Whipped forth by night to meetMy sister's careless feet,And with a kiss betray her to my master!
Man made me, and my willIs to my maker still—To him and his, our peoples at their pier:Lifting in hope to spyTrailed smoke along the sky;Falling afraid lest any keel come near!
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.