ROBERT BROWNING

To bear the playful billows' game; So, each good ship was rude to see, Rude and bare to the outward view.

But each upbore a stately tent Where cedar pales in scented row Kept out the flakes of the dancing brine, And an awning droop'd the mast below, In fold on fold of the purple fine, That neither noontide nor star-shine Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad,

Might pierce the regal tenement. When the sun dawn'd, O, gay and glad We set the sail and plied the oar; But when the night-wind blew like breath, For joy of one day's voyage more, We sang together on the wide sea, Like men at peace on a peaceful shore; Each sail was loosed to the wind so free, Each helm made sure by the twilight star, And in a sleep as calm as death, We, the voyagers from afar,

Lay stretch'd along, each weary crew In a circle round its wondrous tent Whence gleam'd soft light and curl'd rich scent,

And with light and perfume, music too : So the stars wheel'd round, and the darkness past, And at morn we started beside the mast, And still each ship was sailing fast !

Now, one morn, land appeared a speck Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky 'Avoid it,' cried our pilot, 'check The shout, restrain the eager eye ! '

�� �