Now call I to my Captains- To me the straiter prison, To me the heavier chain To me Diego Valdez, F THE BROKEN MEN (1902) OR things we never mention, 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 widow and the orphan They watched the foreign sailings God bless the thoughtful islands And save his wife and daughters From the workhouse and the street! On church and square and market Of the fountain in our halls. Asleep amid the yuccas The city takes her ease- Day long the diamond weather, And the mule-bells tinkling through. Day long the warder ocean That keeps us from our kin, And once a month our levee When the English mail comes in. THE BROKEN MEN You'll find us up and waiting Than the average English are. We sail o' nights to England And join our smiling Boards; Our wives go in with Viscounts And our daughters dance with Lords. But behind our princely doings, And behind each coup we make, We feel there's Something Waiting, And-we meet It when we wake. Ah God! One sniff of England- How stands the old Lord Warden? THE FEET OF THE YOUNG MEN (1897) OW the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose— Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain; Now the Young Men's hearts are troubled for the whisper of the Trues, Now the Red Gods make their medicine again! Who hath seen the beaver busied? Who hath watched the black-tail mating? Who hath lain alone to hear the wild-goose cry? Who hath worked the chosen water where the ouana niche is waiting, Or the sea-trout's jumping-crazy for the fly? He must go-go-go away from here! On the other side the world he's overdue. 'Send your road is clear before you when the old Spring-fret comes o'er you And the Red Gods call for you! So for one the wet sail arching through the rainbow round the bow, And for one the creak of snow-shoes on the crust; And for one the lakeside lilies where the bull-moose waits the cow, And for one the mule-train coughing in the dust. |