Part 31 (1/2)

Son, have you forgot Those mellow autumn days, two years ago, When first we sent our little s.h.i.+p _Half-Moon_,-- The flag of Holland floating at her peak,-- Across a sandy bar, and sounded in Among the channels, to a goodly bay Where all the navies of the world could ride?

A fertile island that the redmen called Manhattan, lay above the bay: the land Around was bountiful and friendly fair.

But never land was fair enough to hold The seaman from the calling of the sea.

And so we bore to westward of the isle, Along a mighty inlet, where the tide Was troubled by a downward-flowing flood That seemed to come from far away,--perhaps From some mysterious gulf of Tartary?

Inland we held our course; by palisades Of naked rock; by rolling hills adorned With forests rich in timber for great s.h.i.+ps; Through narrows where the mountains shut us in With frowning cliffs that seemed to bar the stream; And then through open reaches where the banks Sloped to the water gently, with their fields Of corn and lentils smiling in the sun.

Ten days we voyaged through that placid land, Until we came to shoals, and sent a boat Upstream to find,--what I already knew,-- We travelled on a river, not a strait.

But what a river! G.o.d has never poured A stream more royal through a land more rich.

Even now I see it flowing in my dream, While coming ages people it with men Of manhood equal to the river's pride.

I see the wigwams of the redmen changed To ample houses, and the tiny plots Of maize and green tobacco broadened out To prosperous farms, that spread o'er hill and dale The many-coloured mantle of their crops.

I see the terraced vineyard on the slope Where now the fox-grape loops its tangled vine, And cattle feeding where the red deer roam, And wild-bees gathered into busy hives To store the silver comb with golden sweet; And all the promised land begins to flow With milk and honey. Stately manors rise Along the banks, and castles top the hills, And little villages grow populous with trade, Until the river runs as proudly as the Rhine,-- The thread that links a hundred towns and towers!

Now looking deeper in my dream, I see A mighty city covering the isle They call Manhattan, equal in her state To all the older capitals of earth,-- The gateway city of a golden world,-- A city girt with masts, and crowned with spires, And swarming with a million busy men, While to her open door across the bay The s.h.i.+ps of all the nations flock like doves.

My name will be remembered there, the world Will say, ”This river and this isle were found By Henry Hudson, on his way to seek The Northwest Pa.s.sage.”

Yes, I seek it still,-- My great adventure and my guiding star!

For look ye, friends, our voyage is not done; We hold by hope as long as life endures!

Somewhere among these floating fields of ice, Somewhere along this westward widening bay, Somewhere beneath this luminous northern night, The channel opens to the Farthest East,-- I know it,--and some day a little s.h.i.+p Will push her bowsprit in, and battle through!

And why not ours,--to-morrow,--who can tell?

The lucky chance awaits the fearless heart!

These are the longest days of all the year; The world is round and G.o.d is everywhere, And while our shallop floats we still can steer.

So point her up, John King, nor'west by north We'll keep the honour of a certain aim Amid the peril of uncertain ways, And sail ahead, and leave the rest to G.o.d.

July, 1909.

SEA-GULLS OF MANHATTAN

Children of the elemental mother, Born upon some lonely island sh.o.r.e Where the wrinkled ripples run and whisper, Where the crested billows plunge and roar; Long-winged, tireless roamers and adventurers, Fearless breasters of the wind and sea, In the far-off solitary places I have seen you floating wild and free!

Here the high-built cities rise around you; Here the cliffs that tower east and west, Honeycombed with human habitations, Have no hiding for the sea-bird's nest: Here the river flows begrimed and troubled; Here the hurrying, panting vessels fume, Restless, up and down the watery highway, While a thousand chimneys vomit gloom.

Toil and tumult, conflict and confusion, Clank and clamour of the vast machine Human hands have built for human bondage-- Yet amid it all you float serene; Circling, soaring, sailing, swooping lightly Down to glean your harvest from the wave; In your heritage of air and water, You have kept the freedom Nature gave.

Even so the wild-woods of Manhattan Saw your wheeling flocks of white and gray; Even so you fluttered, followed, floated, Round the _Half-Moon_ creeping up the bay; Even so your voices creaked and chattered.

Laughing shrilly o'er the tidal rips, While your black and beady eyes were glistening Round the sullen British prison-s.h.i.+ps.

Children of the elemental mother, Fearless floaters 'mid the double blue, From the crowded boats that cross the ferries Many a longing heart goes out to you.

Though the cities climb and close around us, Something tells us that our souls are free, While the sea-gulls fly above the harbour, While the river flows to meet the sea!