Bahaman
To T. B. M.
IN the crowd that thronged the pierhead, come to see their friends take ship For new ventures in seafaring, when the hawsers were let slip And we swung out in the current, with good-byes on every lip,
'Midst the waving caps and kisses, as we dropped down with the tide And the faces blurred and faded, last of all your hand I spied Signalling, Farewell, Good fortune! then my heart rose up and cried:
'While the world holds one such comrade, whose sweet durable regard Would so speed my safe departure, lest home-leaving should be hard, What care I who keeps the ferry, whether Charon or Cunard!'
Then we cleared the bar, and laid her on the course, the thousand miles From the Hook to the Bahamas, from midwinter to the isles Where frost never laid a finger, and eternal summer smiles.
Three days through the surly storm-beat, while the surf-heads threshed and flew, And the rolling mountains thundered to the trample of the screw, The black liner heaved and scuffled and strained on, as if she knew.
On the fourth, the round blue morning sparkled there, all light and breeze, Clean and tenuous as a bubble blown from two immensities, Shot and coloured with sheer sunlight and the magic of those seas.
In that bright new world of wonder, it was life enough to laze All day underneath the awnings, and through half-shut eyes to gaze At the marvel of the sea-blue; and I faltered for a phrase