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When first we left the river-mouth
Being wishful to get out to sea
We turned our vessel to the South
Although the wind was easterly.
143

But when we lost the land at last
We steered again toward the West,
As in the merry days now past
When ever we did hope the best.
Scarcely now had we hope or fear,
Although the savour of the sea
Pricked thoughts now dead for many a year.
But to fulfil our destiny
Was all our thought: yet none the less
Though we were old yet brisk we were,
And felt no pain or weariness,
As we slid through the water clear.
Now did we run before the wind
For many a day and still no land
Or good or evil could we find,
Or signs of it on any hand,
As short-winged birds or floating rack.
So when it reached the fortieth day,
Of food and drink we feared a lack
Though through the sea we made great way.
Therefore we ate right sparingly
And drank still less; yet passed withal
The tenth day, no land could we see
And sore famine on us did fall.
The next day, just at sunrising,
The watchman cried, “Land cometh now!”
Glad were we when a small white thing
We saw upon the weather bow.
Thither we steered, and at noontide
Began to draw anigh thereto,
And saw a city fair and wide
And looked to hear of something new.
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City from the sea (big)

The white walls stood in the green sea,
The white foam fringed them all around;
By them the wind went noisily,
Nor heard we any other sound,
As hale and how of mariners
Or cries of men, or bells ringing
Or music when some great Lord stirs,
Or any such-like wonted thing.
And though the harbour was nigh full
Of fair new ships, yet alongside
The harbour-tower a rusty hull
Lay swinging in the rising tide.
The harbour-mouth was full narrow,
So as smooth water we did win
We well nigh brushed against the bow
Of this old ship that stood therein.
Now as we passed it, was I ware
Of Nicholas, who with face all wan
Cried out aloud, “O, Sirs, look there!
The image of the Fighting Man.”
There on the prow the image stood,
Battered and ruined of its gold,
Yea, and beside, the carven rood
We knew there in the days of old.
And round about the gunwale ran
The lions of Sir Nicholas;
And underneath the Fighting Man
In copper letters beaten was,
“O Jesu Mercy.” Now when we
By all these tokens knew her well,
What bitter stings of memory
Beset us, it were hard to tell.
145

What! were these thirty years a dream,
And we young still? I looked and there
My fellows stood, with many a seam
Upon their faces, and white hair
Was trickling down from every hood.
Take this for answer: we must die
Or win all, by the Holy Rood—
We must win all, and presently,
Or else before us death would go
And meet us at the Happy Place;
Yea, in the golden gate thereto,
We should but see his fearful face.
Where were our fellows, that we saw
The last time, ere the storm came on,
Just smitten by the gusty flaw?
Like us some shelter they had won
Doubtless, but had they left their quest
Like us, and in some pleasant isle
Forgotten death, and made the best
Of common life a little while?
Or were they slain as they sought life,
Or had they, by some happy fate,
Passed through turmoil and deadly strife
And reached at last the golden gate?
Then such ill thoughts went through my brain,
I cannot bring my tongue or lip
To tell you what they were again:
Pass it—Now no man touched the ship,
Until, as we went slowly past
I caught a grapnel up and ran
And threw it, thinking to hold fast
The bulwark of the Fighting Man;
146

But when upon the rope I leant
The grapnel came home to my hand,
And into dust the bulwark went
As though it had been built of sand.
Then one man with a boarding-spear
Thrust at the ship's side, and straightway
Through the great hole did we see clear
That there our old companions lay.
Asleep they seemed but all ruddy
And neither dead nor gotten old;
But young men fresh and all lusty,
As when we last did them behold.
Then none of us did any more
But let our ship go drifting by
Until we struck against the shore;
Then did we land, but fearfully,
And looking round about like men
Woke up in some unknown wild place
After a battle; and with wan
And timorous looks we prayed God grace,
Then with drawn swords moved down the quay.
Folk saw us who stood ever still
Nor turned their heads, nor word said they
Or noticed us for good or ill.
And this we thought a marvellous thing,
That being fresh landed from the sea
No man said ought of marketing,
Or asked us what the news might be.
And in the ships in like manner
The folk moved neither more nor less;
There stood the master-mariner
Beside the helm all motionless.
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There stood the sailor with one hand
Upon the rope, or on the shroud
One foot. And in that quiet land
Our footfalls seemed to groan aloud.
Then such a fear did seize on me
I never think to feel again
In whatsoever case I be:
Yet went we on, driven by pain
Of famine and by great wonder,
For soon we saw these men were dead
But uncorrupted: oft would stir
Their raiment, and their hair drifted
This way and that way in the wind,
That mocked their sleep so noisily.
Then did it come into my mind
That this the place had used to be
We were in search of: our fellows
Had found it happily; and then
God had o'erwhelmed it with His blows
That kill without destroying men.
Along the quays to the big gate
Which was most stately, then we came
Into a city rich and great,
Where still all folk did seem the same.
The riches of this dead city,
And the dead folk that were therein,
Were hard to tell; for verily
If one Byzantium should win,
A country village would he have
By this; but now a piece of bread
We lacked, our very lives to save,
Or else right soon we were but dead.
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On all the shops and stalls there lay
Both bread and meat, and other things,
Whereto in spite of fear, straightway
We ran to deaden our cravings.
But though these things looked fresh and fair
As those that stood and could not stir,
Yet when within our hands they were,
They went away to mere powder.
Then did we see no other rede
But in our ship to get away,
And for some help in this sore need
To God and all the Saints to pray.
And yet because the sea was wide,
And no good land we might come to,
There on the land we would abide
Till all the city was gone through.
So through the long streets on we went,
And man, and maid, and child we met
Like painted images of Ghent,
Within some fair cathedral set.
Now to a square we came at last
Midmost of which a conduit fair
Four streams of water outward cast
That ran four ways throughout the square.
Thereto I and my fellows ran,
For fain we were to quench our drouth;
But when unto the water wan
I stooped and thought to set my mouth,
Nought met my mouth but common air:
Then wearily we turned us round,
And spying a great palace there
We entered it, and heard no sound
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But of the wind that ever went
Through open doors, and fires vast
That through the chimnies upward sent
Great roaring; so straightway we passed

Men going into palace (small)


Through many a chamber and rich hall,
Where the worst hangings that we saw
Were wrought of gold and royal pall
Or samite without any flaw.
There did we pass through the guard-room,
There saw we dames half-hid with veils,
And ladies working at the loom,
And ladies holding books of tales.
Then came we to a door close-shut,
Where stood a soldier with a spear,
As if on guard he had been put;
We passed him by with little fear
And found a court of marble white,
Set round with pots of orange-trees,
And midmost, open to the light,
A clear green pool, where three ladies

Ladies bathing (small) The Knights don't come in any of these three last pictures

Naked, but covered to the knee
By the thin water, stood bathing;
While on the brink lay daintily
Their clothes with many a chain and ring.
Well nigh we wept thereat, although
We were in evil case, and old;
Yet went, and to a chamber low
We came where was a bed of gold

Lovers (small)

Where sat, half-dressed, a maiden sweet,
While by her, on the floor there lay
A goodly man who kissed her feet—
She had been smiling on that day.
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We sighed again, when we saw these,
And their sweet love, so quickly done;
But passed them to a close of trees,
Where birds sat glittering in the sun.
There, on one side, we saw a hall,
Whereof the door was opened wide;
Of deep green jasper was the wall
With images on every side,
In which, thereto being quickly led
By evil fate and destiny,
We found a royal table spread
And thereat a great company
Of knights and ladies sitting round,
A set smile upon every face;
Their gold gowns trailing on the ground,
The light of gold through all the place.
Minstrels were in the gallery,
With silent open mouths, and hands
That moved not on the psaltery
And citern; and with ivory wands
The marshalls stood about the hall.
And there were carpets of great cost,
And histories upon the wall
Of kings, whose very names were lost.
A wretched crew we seemed surely
Amongst such fresh things as were there,
As we moved forward fearfully
With eyes upon the table fair:
For there we saw both flesh and fowl
And fish, and many a sugared cate,
And wine in many a jewelled bowl,
And longed therefore, being moved by fate.
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Then shuddering our hands we set
Unto that food: then were we glad
Past words to find it all fresh yet
And that some real man's food we had.
Then ate we of it greedily
Standing beside those stony folk;
Such bread as never man did buy
In any market there we broke.
And at the last, which was the worst,
Grown bold, we dared to take our seat
By those dead folk, and slake our thirst
From out their cups; yea and did eat
From dead hands many a strange morsel:
Thereof we grew right mad at last
And drunk with very wine of Hell.
And as we laughed and chattered fast

The Feast (big)

Things worthy weeping, suddenly
All things grew dim, and deadly sleep
And heavy dreams came over me
While watch the stony folk did keep
With glittering eyes, and that set smile
More sad to see than bitter tears;
And the great fire burned all the while
As it had done these many years.
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