| |
| BEHIND him lay the gray Azores, | |
| Behind the Gates of Hercules; | |
| Before him not the ghost of shores, | |
| Before him only shoreless seas. | |
| The good mate said: “Now must we pray, | 5 |
| For lo! the very stars are gone. | |
| Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?” | |
| “Why, say, ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’” | |
| |
| “My men grow mutinous day by day; | |
| My men grow ghastly wan and weak.” | 10 |
| The stout mate thought of home; a spray | |
| Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. | |
| “What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, | |
| If we sight naught but seas at dawn?” | |
| “Why, you shall say at break of day, | 15 |
| ‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’” | |
| |
| They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, | |
| Until at last the blanched mate said: | |
| “Why, now not even God would know | |
| Should I and all my men fall dead. | 20 |
| These very winds forget their way, | |
| For God from these dread seas is gone. | |
| Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say”— | |
| He said: “Sail on! sail on! and on!” | |
| |
| They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: | 25 |
| “This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. | |
| He curls his lip, he lies in wait, | |
| With lifted teeth, as if to bite! | |
| Brave Admiral, say but one good word: | |
| What shall we do when hope is gone?” | 30 |
| The words leapt like a leaping sword: | |
| “Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!” | |
| |
| Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, | |
| And peered through darkness. Ah, that night | |
| Of all dark nights! And then a speck— | 35 |
| A light! A light! A light! A light! | |
| It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! | |
| It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn. | |
| He gained a world; he gave that world | |
| Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!” | 40 |
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