IN THE MATTER OF ONE COMPASS 1892 WHEN, foot to wheel and back to wind, The helmsman dare not look behind, But hears beyond his compass-light, The blind bow thunder through the night, And, like a harpstring ere it snaps, The rigging sing beneath the caps; Above the shriek of storm in sail Or rattle of the blocks blown free, Set for the peace beyond the gale, This song the Needle sings the Sea: Oh, drunken Wave ! Oh, driving Cloud ! Rage of the Deep and sterile Rain, By Love upheld, by God allowed, We go, but we return again ! When leagued about the 'wildered boat The rainbow Jellies fill and float, And, lilting where the laver lingers, The Starfish trips on all her fingers; Where, 'neath his myriad spines ashock, The Sea-egg ripples down the rock, An orange wonder dimly guessed From darkness where the Cuttles rest, Moored o'er the darker deeps that hide The blind white Sea-snake and his bride, Who, drowsing, nose the long-lost Ships Let down through darkness to their lips-- Safe-swung above the glassy death,