The Buccaneer

Greet ye the morning, laugh her up, And sing the Sun below, For it’s out wi’ me to the Carib Sea Where the scented east-winds blow; O the day is new and the galleons few That cling to the desperate rendezvous We know, we know; So lay your lingering steel away And seamen be for another day, For another Sun and our goal is won, Out on the Carib Sea! For Harnadino harbor lies But fifty leagues ahead, So an’ we speak no sail this week We dine on Spanish bread; So an’ we grip no scented ship There’s a fairer goal to our golden trip I’ the bay, i’ the bay; So handle your hemp as ye polish your steel, Gold’s in the offing, war’s at the wheel,— And you’re out wi’ me to the Carib Sea, Out to the Carib Sea!

We bearded the garrison first, The citadel made we our own, The stout-hearted governor cursed Till he swallowed it all with a groan; We hanged him high from the wall And turned to the helpless town, As drunk with the dread of it all The night reeled shuddering down. The rage of the ones to resist Was drowned in the vermeil wave Where the sea-steel sputtered and hissed Where my bellowing sea-dogs drave; Yea, driving the lambs to their fold, So sacked we with never a light Save that which the seekers for gold Let flame in the murderous night. I wandered alone in a way Unplundered, silent, apart, And saw when the dawning was grey A Face look into my heart! She stood, with the sorrowful eyes, Where the dawn-ghost haunted the dial, And I measured the idle sunrise By the lovelier light of her smile.

Ah, Princess, hast thou laughed and left Some faery isle that called thee queen? And hath that island so bereft Retained the flouted robe of green That graced thy lovely ruling, when It knows thou shalt not come again? Princess, hearken: wilt thou trust To my stern clay thy tenderer dust? Turn to my wooing,—hush thee, sweet, ’Tis but my comrades in the street! Ah, Princess, doth thine empire seem Far from the anguish here that lies?... Resume the sceptre of thy dream, And make crown-jewels of thine eyes, And rule a realm whose boundaries are Limited by my boundless war! Princess, hearken while I woo, For love is brief, and death is due To him who kills,—flinch not, my fair, ’Tis but my comrades on the stair! Ah, Princess, of that faery isle Resign thy reign, and rule with me With sudden splendour of thy smile O’er the long reaches of the sea; And all the world shall vassal be, Heart of my heart, for love of thee. Princess, hark to me, and give Thy love to make my love to live; Here, to my heart!... Love, fear no more, ’Tis but my comrades at the door!

The still cathedral, high and dark and wide, The gloom that hid us kneeling side by side,— Yea, where the candles at the chancel flared I took of love a sweetheart and a bride. (Chanted the priests: Orate, Domine!) The sudden silence drinking up the din, The hush that gripped us as the doors swung in Leaving us soul to soul with solitude,— The while the city wallowed in my sin. (The dreamy chanting ... Jesu ... Domine.) The long slow Latin periods were hung Too lovingly upon the abbe’s tongue, I made a prodding handle of my sword,— And all the while the dark-robed brothers sung: (Ora pro nobis ... Jesu ... Domine.) I snatched the grey hood from his frowning brows, Word for his word I vowed the immortal vows, And kneeling knew an unknown sacrament In the loud silence of her Father’s House. (And for my soul the chanting ... Domine!)

Sweet, in the sunrise you and I, Clasping the love we may not read, Hear in the rout that eddies by Unwonted voices strained and high,— Love we, the while they bleed. Now in the dawn their voices seem Broken and sad with pain and fret,— But we are lovers in a dream Wherefrom we may not waken yet. Sweetheart, see: the night is gone, Love is rising,—Love the Dawn! Yea, for the chill years you and I Snatch from the world a gilded cup And in our fingers hold on high The magic ichor of Live-or-Die,— Laugh we to drink it up! Mark how the war-notes wild and weird Fall on the faint wind of the south, And all our war hath disappeared,— Sweet, I am thirsty for thy mouth! Sweetheart, see where flames the Day, Love the Dawn illumes our way. Here it is Dawn, but bye-and-bye When Evening draws his sable cloak, Shall Love be lost? Alone shall I Pursue the quest where barren lie My conquests low in smoke? Never an answer try to speak For Time it is must answer this; Lean but thy cheek against my cheek, Turn but thy kiss to meet my kiss! Sweetheart, see: their fire dies, Quenched in the Love-Dawn in thine eyes!

In the deep guard of the garden, with its arms around her thrown, There I laid her with the roses for her winding-sheet alone, And the silent heart within her made no quiver of her breast, Though the flood that stole her from me left its crimson on her vest. Yea, I laid her there alone, when our love was just begun, And I stared in still amazement to behold the tearless Sun. Then they tried to come between us, and I slew them when they tried, For I wanted one more silence with my sweetheart and my bride; So the world swept on around us while the rose-leaves gathered deep On the fragrant tomb that held her fast, and lulled my love to sleep. Then I raised my hands on high, to the barren morning sky, And I cursed with every oath I knew, the One who let her die. Yea, my days should reek with crimson!... On the sudden, round her head, Glimmered something that is given to a maiden who is dead, And I stilled my oaths in wonder and my heart stood hushed to see How a maiden in her dying consecrated Love for me! Then I left her there alone, with the roses for her throne, And I gathered Love within me for the roses he had blown,— And in the silent sunrise, Beauty gathered in her own.