Volume II Part 75 (1/2)

Will you not come and look for Him with me?

[_They go slowly together through the forest and are lost to sight.

BLONDEL'S voice is heard singing the third stanza of the song in the distance, further and further away._]

”Death? What is Death?” he cried.

”I must ride on!”

[_Curtain._]

TALES OF THE MERMAID TAVERN

I

A KNIGHT OF THE OCEAN-SEA

Under that foggy sunset London glowed, Like one huge cob-webbed flagon of old wine.

And, as I walked down Fleet Street, the soft sky Mowed thro' the roaring thoroughfares, transfused Their hard sharp outlines, blurred the throngs of black On either pavement, blurred the rolling stream Of red and yellow busses, till the town Turned to a golden suburb of the clouds.

And, round that mighty bubble of St. Paul's, Over the up-turned faces of the street, An air-s.h.i.+p slowly sailed, with whirring fans, A voyager in the new-found realms of gold, A shadowy silken chrysalis whence should break What radiant wings in centuries to be.

So, wandering on, while all the sh.o.r.es of Time Softened into Eternity, it seemed A dead man touched me with his living hand, A flaming legend pa.s.sed me in the streets Of London--laugh who will--that City of Clouds, Where what a dreamer yet, in spite of all, Is man, that splendid visionary child Who sent his fairy beacon through the dusk, On a blue bus before the moon was risen,-- _This Night, at eight, The Tempest!_

Dreaming thus, (Small wonder that my footsteps went astray!) I found myself within a narrow street, Alone. There was no rumour, near or far, Of the long tides of traffic. In my doubt I turned and knocked upon an old inn-door, Hard by, an ancient inn of mullioned panes, And crazy beams and over-hanging eaves: And, as I knocked, the slowly changing west Seemed to change all the world with it and leave Only that old inn steadfast and unchanged, A rock in the rich-coloured tides of time.

And, suddenly, as a song that wholly escapes Remembrance, at one note, wholly returns, There, as I knocked, memory returned to me.

I knew it all--the little twisted street, The rough wet cobbles gleaming, far away, Like opals, where it ended on the sky; And, overhead, the darkly smiling face Of that old wizard inn; I knew by rote The smooth sun-bubbles in the worn green paint Upon the doors and shutters.

There was one Myself had idly scratched away one dawn, One mad May-dawn, three hundred years ago, When out of the woods we came with hawthorn boughs And found the doors locked, as they seemed to-night.

Three hundred years ago--nay, Time was dead!

No need to scan the sign-board any more Where that white-breasted siren of the sea Curled her moon-silvered tail among such rocks As never in the merriest seaman's tale Broke the blue-bliss of fabulous lagoons Beyond the Spanish Main.

And, through the dream, Even as I stood and listened, came a sound Of clas.h.i.+ng wine-cups: then a deep-voiced song Made the old timbers of the Mermaid Inn Shake as a galleon shakes in a gale of wind When she rolls glorying through the Ocean-sea.

SONG

I

Marchaunt Adventurers, chanting at the windla.s.s, Early in the morning, we slipped from Plymouth Sound, All for Adventure in the great New Regions, All for Eldorado and to sail the world around!

Sing! the red of sun-rise ripples round the bows again.

Marchaunt Adventurers, O sing, we're outward bound, All to stuff the sunset in our old black galleon, All to seek the merchandise that no man ever found.

_Chorus:_ Marchaunt Adventurers!

Marchaunt Adventurers!

Marchaunt Adventurers, O, whither are ye bound?-- All for Eldorado and the great new Sky-line, All to seek the merchandise that no man ever found.

II

Marchaunt Adventurers, O, what'ull ye bring home again?-- Wonders and works and the thunder of the sea!

Whom will ye traffic with?--The King of the Sunset!

What shall be your pilot then?--A wind from Galilee.