The dwindling boom of the steel thing’s striving,
The little cry of a man to a man,
A shadow falling across the greyer night,
And the sinking of the small star;
Then the waste, the far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
Remember, thou, O ship of love,
Thou leavest a far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
In all drinkHe detected the bitter,And in all touchHe found the sting.At last he cried thus:‘There is nothing –No life,No joy,No pain –There is nothing save opinion,And opinion be damned.’
They gathered the flowersEach to himself.Now there were someWho gathered great heaps —Having opportunity and skill —Until, behold, only chance blossomsRemained for the feeble.Then a little spindling tutorRan importantly to the father, crying:‘Pray, come hither!See this unjust thing in your garden!’But when the father had surveyed,He admonished the tutor:‘Not so, small sage!This thing is just.For,…
He cried: ‘Woe to my knowledge!I intended to see good white landsAnd bad black lands,But the scene is grey.’
And I was overjoyed at this.Together we hastened.Soon, too soon, were weWhere my eyes were useless,And I knew not the ways of my feet.I clung to the hand of my friend;But at last he cried, ‘I am lost.’
And eventually he achieved it —It was clay.Now this is the strange part:When the man went to the earthAnd looked again,Lo, there was the ball of gold.Now this is the strange part:It was a ball of gold.Aye, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold.
He said, ‘Show me of your wares.’And this I did,Holding forth one.He said, ‘It is a sin.’Then held I forth another;He said, ‘It is a sin.’Then held I forth another;He said, ‘It is a sin.’And so to the end;Always he said, ‘It is a sin.’And, finally, I cried out,‘But I have none other.’Then did he…
