Days and Hours :: :: University of Virginia Library

Like one who meets affliction with disdain,
The Sun from underneath the Thunder's wing
Look'd angry red, and past imagining
Threw glory o'er the mountains and the main,
A dying Conqueror in battle slain!

II

An aged Fisher sat upon the shore,
And gazed toward the sunset, and the moan
Of gathering tempest mingled with the roar
Of the waste seas, and in his eyes there shone
The dying ardors that he gazed upon.

III

He cast his gray locks back, he raised his head,
And when he saw the lightning flashes break,
And heard the first note of the thunder speak,
‘I come to strive with ye alone,’ he said,
‘My eyes are dim, my spirit is not dead.’

IV

For I remember the triumphant morn,
When first I ventured on the stormy realm
Of the great Deep; alone I took the helm,
And spread the sail despite of warning scorn,
And far upon the dark seas was I borne.

V

By many a Siren islet free and bold,
O'er rock, and shoal, and surge I safely rode,
And found new lands, and shores by giants trod,
Led by the star that only I behold,
And shall I yield because my limbs are old?

VI

Let others praise young deeds that were their own,
And sit with dames beneath the evening sun;
My heart is strong altho' my strength be done,
So I will lift the anchor, and be gone,
And on my own wild waves I will go down!

VII

He rose still mighty, and they heard him say—
‘Let the winds tear me, and the storm infold,
What care I, so that Men and Gods behold;’
He spread his sail against the dying day,
And in the frowning twilight sail'd away.