Part 1 — THE SAILOR
Reading edition
Her brother was a rat-faced Roman, Lean, puckered, tight-skinned from the sea, Commander in the Canace, Able to drive a horse, or ship, Or crew of men, without a whip By will, as long as they could go. His face would wrinkle, row on row, From mouth to hair-roots when he laught He looked ahead as though his craft Were with him still, in dangerous channels. He and Hugh Colway tossed their flannels Into the pony-cart and mounted. Six foiled attempts the watchers counted, The horses being bickering things, That so much scarlet made like kings, Such sidling and such pawing and shifting.