THE SACRED SHIP FROM DELOS

“Strange, how I felt the homeward voyage long; As I looked back to Delos o’er our wake, And heard the priest’s song, saw our sails out-shake Under the round sun hanging like a gong Mid-heaven. All night long I lay on deck Remembering how he taught us in the Porch; Yet, the black waters’ phosphorescent torch Gave me no Sign, no word in white foam-fleck. “When we passed Sunion, methought I saw Red fires burning ’mid the holy white Of sacred columns; but the Athenian law I did not know! And then, the reef’s long jaw Foamed at us. Through the hollow night We fared, unwitting; putting forth our might; Speeding with oars our fated way upon, Till the white Dawn ensilvered Phaleron. “At the Piræus, when I saw the throng,— Crito and Phædo, there, to meet us,—I Gave myself no portentous reason why, But thought: ‘He’s free!’ (Forsooth he did no wrong) Then I remembered lofty words he said Of freedom as its dangerous truth he read,— Great Zeus! The cowards might as well indict Sea-circled priest or mountain anchorite! “Crito it was who told me, voice all raw With grief, and on my shoulder his kind hand: He saw me flinch,—‘Tremblest?’ he said, ‘Nay, stand Here in the shadow. ’Twas thy ship they saw, The Sacred ship from Delos, ere they gave The signal for the hemlock—and his grave! He drank the cup: the while, methought, thy prow Would have steered Hades-ward, didst thou but know.’ “I made no sign. No trite word left my lip. I turned from Crito, and saw Phædo, grave, Join him. Alone, I went back to my ship, Sails furled with garlands riding harbor-wave; I looked at her, rehearsed the sacred rite, And purified me; set my torch alight: ‘Socrates! Master!’ I sobbed once; set then Aflame the Sacred Ship of Ill-Omen!”