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| THERE is wild water from the north; | |
| The headlands darken in their foam | |
| As with a threat of challenge stubborn earth | |
| Booms at that far wild sea-line charging home. | |
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| The night shall stand upon the shifting sea | 5 |
| As yesternight stood there, | |
| And hear the cry of waters through the air, | |
| The iron voice of headlands start and rise— | |
| The noise of winds for mastery | |
| That screams to hear the thunder in those cries. | 10 |
| But now henceforth there shall be heard | |
| From Brough of Bursay, Marwick Head, | |
| And shadows of the distant coast, | |
| Another voice bestirred— | |
| Telling of something greatly lost | 15 |
| Somewhere below the tidal glooms, and dead. | |
| Beyond the uttermost | |
| Of aught the night may hear on any seas | |
| From tempest-known wild water’s cry, and roar | |
| Of iron shadows looming from the shore, | 20 |
| It shall be heard—and when the Orcades | |
| Sleep in a hushed Atlantic’s starry folds | |
| As smoothly as, far down below the tides, | |
| Sleep on the windless broad sea-wolds | |
| Where this night’s shipwreck hides. | 25 |
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| By many a sea-holm where the shock | |
| Of ocean’s battle falls, and into spray | |
| Gives up its ghosts of strife; by reef and rock | |
| Ravaged by their eternal brute affray | |
| With monstrous frenzies of their shore’s green foe; | 30 |
| Where overstream and overfall and undertow | |
| Strive, snatch away; | |
| A wistful voice, without a sound, | |
| Shall dwell beside Pomona, on the sea, | |
| And speak the homeward- and the outward-bound, | 35 |
| And touch the helm of passing minds | |
| And bid them steer as wistfully— | |
| Saying: “He did great work, until the winds | |
| And waters hereabout that night betrayed | |
| Him to the drifting death! His work went on— | 40 |
| He would not be gainsaid…. | |
| Though where his bones are, no man knows, not one!” | |
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