THE SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ

Where lay our loosened harness?

Where turned our naked feet?
Whose tavern 'mid the palm-trees?
What quenchings of what heat?

Oh fountain in the desert!

Oh cistern in the waste!

Oh bread we ate in secret!
Oh cup we spilled in haste!

The youth new-taught of longing,
The widow curbed and wan-
The goodwife proud at season,
And the maid aware of man;
All souls unslaked, consuming,
Defrauded in delays,

Desire not more than quittance
Than I those forfeit days!

I dreamed to wait my pleasure
Unchanged my spring would bide:
Wherefore, to wait my pleasure,

I put my spring aside
Till, first in face of Fortune,

And last in mazed disdain,

I made Diego Valdez

High Admiral of Spain.

THE SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ

Then walked no wind 'neath Heaven

Nor surge that did not aid

I dared extreme occasion,

Nor ever one betrayed.

They wrought a deeper treason—
(Led seas that served my needs!)
They sold Diego Valdez

To bondage of great deeds.

The tempest flung me seaward,
And pinned and bade me hold
The course I might not alter-
And men esteemed me bold!
The calms embayed my quarry,
The fog-wreath sealed his eyes;
The dawn-wind brought my topsails-
And men esteemed me wise!

Yet 'spite my tyrant triumphs
Bewildered, dispossessed-

My dream held I before me

My vision of my rest;

But, crowned by Fleet and People,

And bound by King and Pope

Stands here Diego Valdez

To rob me of my hope!

THE SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ

No prayer of mine shall move him,

No word of his set free
The Lord of Sixty Pennants

And the Steward of the Sea.
His will can loose ten thousand

To seek their loves again—

But not Diego Valdez,

High Admiral of Spain.

There walks no wind 'neath Heaven

Nor wave that shall restore

The old careening riot

And the clamorous, crowded shore

The fountain in the desert,

The cistern in the waste,

The bread we ate in secret,

The cup we spilled in haste!

Now call I to my Captains-
For council fly the sign,
Now leap their zealous galleys

Twelve-oared across the brine.

To me the straiter prison,

To me the heavier chain

To me Diego Valdez,

High Admiral of Spain!

THE BROKEN MEN

FOR things we never mention,
For Art misunderstood-

For excellent intention

That did not turn to good;

From ancient tales' renewing,

From clouds we would not clear

Beyond the Law's pursuing

We fled, and settled here.

We took no tearful leaving,

We bade no long good-byes; Men talked of crime and thieving, Men wrote of fraud and lies.

To save our injured feelings

'Twas time and time to goBehind was dock and Dartmoor,

Ahead lay Callao!

THE BROKEN MEN

The widow and the orphan

That pray for ten per cent.,
They clapped their trailers on us
To spy the road we went.
They watched the foreign sailings
(They scan the shipping still),
And that's your Christian people
Returning good for ill!

God bless the thoughtful islands

Where never warrants come! God bless the just Republics That give a man a home, That ask no foolish questions,

But set him on his feet;

And save his wife and daughters

From the workhouse and the street!

On church and square and market
The noonday silence falls;
You'll hear the drowsy mutter

Of the fountain in our halls.

Asleep amid the yuccas

The city takes her ease-
Till twilight brings the land-wind

To our clicking jalousies.