No wind there was; yet without wind, the sea,
In jagg’d tremendous pyramids, uprose
Far to the sky, and fell whence they had leapt,
Running no whither; but just rising up
In monstrous heaps, to fall again in foam.
And with the churning of that horrid sea,
The ship was tossed most woefully about,
So that, at whiles, the up-hurled waves o’erhung
About my head in black and watery hills.
An hour of terror passed; then, all at once,
I heard across the sea a moaning come,
Dreadful and sad, and terrible to hear;
And then a hollow rumble of deep sound,
With afterwards a full continuous roar
High in the air above; and then there rushed,
Down on the waiting craft, a howling gust,
Filled to the throat with vast unholy shrieks,
And leapt upon, and bore her down until
The milk-white smother of the boiling sea
Sprang all across our decks in frothing spume.
There, in that anguished moment, from the sky,
Brilliant and clear, within a circle dark,
Shone the great Star of Peace, whose beams proclaim
The lulling of the tempest’s furious breast.
And at that blessed omen, hope leapt up
Within mine anxious breast; till, in awhile,
The wind decreasing somewhat in its strength,
The ship uprose upon her keel, and lived,
Though loaded to her rails with seething brine
And beat with murderous seas, that madly leapt,
Boldly, in house-great clots, across her decks.
Then, in a greater space, the storm grew less,
So that her hull was visible once more;
And far above, the peaceful stars shone out,
While I, with trembling heart raised up my voice,
In joy that life was mine, and gave my thanks,
Joining them with the dying Cyclone’s blast.
And then, across the falling waves, I saw,
Lighting the far-off East, the coming dawn,
Which grew and strengthened up, until at last
The great white maw of day devoured the stars;
And the red sun, all bearded with the storm,
Rose from below the sea’s dark edge, and shone,
Over the cliffs of night, upon the world.
And high the sea tossed up her rugged hills
Into the ruddy flame that blazed afar
And lit the seas with sombre wandering tints
With crimson stains all flecked with froth and spume;
And the black terror of the night and storm
Had vanished, for awhile, in blazing light.
THE SHIP
And I lift up the tons of thy foam
On my wandering prow
And hurl through the summits of hills,
O — world of uproar,
I shiver and bow
Before the great Door of the Deep.
Then I leap
On through thy grim pathless miles
Roaring across thy drifts,
And my prow laughs like thunder on thee
Or quietens odd whiles
As the Storm-mutter pauses and shifts
At the sound of my tread....
Ha! And thou answerest me
With sombrest calls
Of long unremembered dead
Out of unknowable Halls....
...Then I dream,
And the brine hills are gone,
And the moon has risen and shone,
And I seem
Only a dream afar on thy breast,
Stealing onward for ever and ever
Through leagues of enchantment and rest,
Whilst thy little winds whisper with me
Lost in the gloom of thy sails,
And there sough, forgotten of gales,
So I go, onward forever and ever
Unto my rest.
THOU LIVING SEA
Thou broad, great, living sea;
Great in thy boundless Spread;
With many tongues thy voices speak to me,
With voices from the dead.
The splendour of thy sights;
The vastness of thy flood;
The dim, o’er-curving shadows; and the lights
That cover thee with blood
Or golden glory, seen
When falls the evening sun
Behind that vivid edge of wat’ry green,
Before the night’s begun.
Yet ever speaks the gloom
That lurks beneath thy waves;
And whisperings of mystery and doom
Rise ghostly from thy graves.
The deepness of thy vasts
Fills my poor soul with fright;
Fills me with fearfulness; O dreadful vasts!
O caverns of the night!
Still, thy great peacefulness;
Thy gently heaving breast;
The shimmering stillness of thy silent dress
Speak words to me of rest.
So when in rage thy howls
Go shrieking, ‘cross the sky,
Thy very mountain-crests and briny bowels
Shout out and prophesy.
At night hast thou with tongue
Of murmuring waters, spelt
Out stories that have saddened me and wrung
My soul with sorrows felt.
At times I’ve heard thee speak
Of unknown shining gold;
Of treasures in thy depths that none shall seek;
And wonderland untold.
But better far than these,
The things thou toldest me,
That came to me upon the crooning breeze
That whispers o’er the sea.
The wisdom of the years
Was in thy counselling:
And subtle thoughts spoke ever in thy tears;
Fine thoughts to which I cling.
Thus thou, O Sea, and I,
In storms and calms have grown
To greater, broader knowledge - thou and I;
A knowledge of our own.
And thou, O Sea, at last;
Thou whom I dread and love,
Shalt take me in thine arms when I have passed,
And usher me above.
THE PIRATES
The roll of the ships
And the thud of bare feet on the deck!
See the flames tower
Over to larboard
Over to starboard
Where the tall ships are sinking
And the black water is winking
As it thinks
As it blinks
At the roar of our jinks,
Aoi! foot it, my lads!
Aoi! foot it!
Aoi! bust it!
The whole deck of her.
Make her bounce,
Hark to her timbers a-creak,
Lord, what a time!
Drink to the joy of our life.
Never a crime!
Only a rhyme
On the lip of the sea.
Hic! Hark unto me
A-poeting
A-goating
Along with the rest of you.
Dance, damn you, dance!
Aoi! see the blue night
Rolling as mad as us!
Cuss, devils, cuss!
Lord! what a jolly mad fight!
What blood
And what doings!
What cud
And what ruings
For odd times in future,
What a night!
Aoi! what a night for a prance,
With the wood battle-fires on our decks
And the flames of our wrecks,
Dance, of, you lubbers!
You cockfighters!
You grubbers for gold!
Aoi!
dance until the wash of the ocean
Beats back from our sides,
Dance until she rolls,
Death’s blasted black pendulum,
Between the two poles.
Aoi! we’re bad and we’re bold!
Dieu! what a grand notion!
Aoi! feel the glad motion
And the thud of your hoofs, old jollies,
Around and about on the decks,
Make her drum
Like the fists of old Satan
On the walls of far heaven.
Bumble-drum!
Drumble-bum!
Let her go! Let her go!
Dance! All the gods damn you!
Dance! Drink and dance!
Prance, you sons of Satan, prance!
Make the rounded decks to drum!
(Hear me!)
Till she rolls the scuppers under,
Bumble-drum!
Make her hum!
Gods of Thunder, yelp and wonder!
See us make her bounce and wander....
Make her heave and roll.
Send the wash across the whole black ocean
Till God rocks upon His throne!
(Aoi! The notion!)
Dance each marrow bone.... Thud! Thud!
Thud! Thud!
So we pass on, dancing, dancing.
Aoi! Hand the bucket... damn the glass!
Aoi! we’re right and tight!
So we pass,
Lords of Darkness in the Everlasting Night.
THE SONG OF THE GREAT BULL WHALE
O, I am the Great Bull Whale!
In the storm you shall hear me bellow,
With power bestride of my shoulder, as I tumble the seas aside!
I thrash the Deep from ooze to foam, and I chum the froth all yellow;
For Wa-ha! I am hale And when I make sail
My sundering bulk hurls the billows aside
Hurls the billows aside,
Takes a league in a stride,
And slogs, with a bellow, the face of the storm;
’Tis naught when the blood’s running warm!
For ’tis naught when the blood’s running warm,
Wa! Ha!
The might of my bulk in the face of the storm!
With me Wa! Ha! Ha!
It has far too much side
For a bit of a breeze on the top of the tide!
For I am the Great Bull Whale!
I smite the sea with my tail
At the thundering sound the oceans resound
And the Albicore tumbles into a swound,
For Wa-ha! I am hale,
And when I make sail
My thundering bulk roars over the tides,
Roars over the tides,
And everything hides,
Save the Albicore-fool! a-splitting his sides
A fish kangaroo a-jumping the tides.
For he’s naught but a fish and a half,
Wa! Ha!
A haddock far less than a young bull calf!
With me Wa! Ha! Ha!
He has far too much side
For a bit of a haddock a-jump in the tide!
Yea, I am the Great Bull Whale!
I have shattered the moon when asleep
On the face of the deep, by a stroke of my sweep
I have shattered its features pale.
Like the voice of a wandering gale
Is the smite of my sounding tail
For Wa-ha! I am hale,
And when I make sail
My thundering bulk roars over the tide,
Roars over the tide,
And scatters it wide,
And laughs at the moon afloat on its side
’Tis naught but a star that has died!
For ’tis naught but a star that has died,
Wa! Ha!
A matter of cinders afloat in the Wide!
With me Wa! Ha! Ha!
It has far too much side
For a bit of a cinder afloat in the tide!
THE SOBBING OF THE FRESHWATER
Hush-o-sigh! Yet my little rills were leaping
E’er I came near the sea.
Hush-o-sigh for the lands where spirits, weeping,
Have walked and wept with me.
Hush-o-sigh to the lonely sky!
I dream of sun-loomed dells.
O dream with me! O weep with me I
For afar the faery bells
Come moaning down the wind, as I
Leap o’er the cliff with a wailing cry,
And pass to the unknown sea.
As I wander to the sea, a little sighing
Thrills all along my foam.
As I wander, lo! the years are quietly flying;
And am I nearing home?
Do I sob? Nay! Yea! Perhaps I sob unknowing,
Yet not so very sad (Just as the wind cries low, a little blowing),
And still, not very glad.
Hush-o-sigh! with a wail; for I hear the storm-waves knelling
Beyond the calling shore.
Hush-o-sigh! for the woods and the flowers, sweet-smelling,
I lose for evermore!
Hush-o-sigh to the lonely sky!
I dream of sun-loomed dells.
O dream with me! O weep with me!
For afar the faery bells
Come moaning down the wind, as I
Leap o’er the cliffs with a wailing cry,
And pass to the Unknown Sea.
THE MORNING LANDS
I saw the coasts of the unknown world
(Showered with the morning dew)
Rise from the sea of night,
With many a wonder-hue empearled,
With many a gem of light;
And from that shore there grew
A faint and distant cry,
Like a wailing spirit’s sigh
That floated through the dawn,
The call of souls unborn,
Waiting behind the dim array
Of cliffs that gird the day.
In a cadence strange and sad it came,
In a whisper softly low,
That ever seemed to grow
From out of the living flame
That rises from below:
“We wait our turns
To live and love,
We wait to live and die,
We await the time to come when we
Shall flutter across the nightly sea
To the landing-place of earth,
Where the rain falls from above,
Whence the midday globule burns;
Where nature’s wordless cry
Sounds ever to the sky.
O we await our birth!”
And the morning glows in wave on wave
Lipped o’er the brimming height:
For a cup the whole sky gave
Her gloomy bowl of night
To the flowing tide of life,
As it surged in bloodless strife
O’er distant cloudlet’s flight
With the wondrous foam of light.
LOST
And aye! I set to search the grey, lone plains
For my love out in the gloaming
For my Maiden, whence sad strains
Came o’er the waters moaning
Moaning, moaning, moaning
O’er the sea-hills wildly roaming.
And aye! I set to search the grey, grey sea,
With my spirit-pulses ailing
Set out to search the mists for thee,
That slept eternal, veiling veiling,
Veiling, veiling
Grey deeps whence came thy wailing.
And I swam through spume, grey with the touch of death,
To a far, faint wail of singing,
As one who sang with moaning breath,
Kissed by sad surges, swinging
Swinging, swinging, swinging
The sea-bells weirdly ringing.
And I came upon her, clothed about wi
th foam,
And in her eyes the silence of the sea;
And I made to bear her home;
But her eyes looked not on me.
All mystery, all mystery,
Hung round about; and wild and free
Rung out the sea-bells of the grey, grey sea.
REST
O’er the far West the evening glows ascending
Usher the sun-god into billowy night;
Curtains of sorrow on the world descending
Shut out his mystic radiance of light.
Deep muttered roarings sweep across the starkness
Of that lone sea, whereon a little boat
Rides over billows - trembling ‘midst the darkness;
Drives through the wilderness, shuddering - scarce afloat.
Hour follows hour; the little craft is sinking;
Sodden, heart-weary sailors cry to God;
Fearful and helpless; ever from death shrinking;
Praying despairingly to Almighty God.
Then in the hour before the day is dawning
Comes a fierce billow from the raging gloom,
Hurtles aloft their bark, their crying scorning;
Wantonly drops them to the watery doom.
O’er the far East the morning glows ascending
Usher the dim world into blazing light;
Curtains of darkness from the sky descending
Sink into distance with the passing night.
* * * *
Safe in thy depths, O sea, those sailors sleeping,
Slumber in peace within thy silences;
There, dreaming dreams, beneath thine endless weeping;
Clothed with thy stillness - touched with thy caress.
THE VOICE OF THE OCEAN
THE VOICE OF THE OCEAN
Upon one clear, cool day, when little winds
Played a soft chime upon the ocean’s bells,
Passed a great steamer on its way from shore
Bearing to far off lands a multitude
Of the small souls which form the staple part
Of this old world’s inhabitants. And they,
To pass the time away, with much small talk
Skimmed o’er the surface of the Sea of Thought,
Having no thought of drowning in its depths
Through very lack of knowledge that ’twas deep.
Said one of highest breed and leanest brain:
“’Tis foolishness this vain belief in God,
Who is He? - No one knows, nor ever will;
He is but Something born within the minds
Of mankind in the mass - WE know too well
How empty is such thought; and, knowing this,
We live our lives content; for soon the end
Shall come, and we shall be no more at all.”
Thus ended he. The woman smiled, to whom
Complete Works of William Hope Hodgson Page 194