XIII.
- Told The Vain And Painful Striving,
By Shot-Weighted Shrouds To Hide
(Last Fond Care), From Those Surviving,
What Good Comrade Last Had Died;
Yet The Ghastly Things Kept Showing,
Waist Deep In The Unquiet Grave -
To Each Other Gravely Bowing
On The Slow Swing Of The Wave!
XIV.
Eric's boat is near the landing -
From that dark ship bring they aught?
In the stern sheets ONE is standing,
Though their eyes perceive him not;
But a curdling horror creepeth
Thro' their veins, with icy darts,
And each hurried oar-stroke keepeth
Time with their o'er-labouring hearts!
XV.
Heavy seems their boat returning,
Weighted with a world of care!
Oh, ye blind ones - none discerning
WHAT the spectral freight ye bear.
Glad they hear the sea-beach grating
Harsh beneath the small boat's stem -
Forth they leap, for no man waiting -
But the BLACK DEATH LANDS WITH THEM.
XVI.
Viewless - soundless - stalks the spectre
Thro' the city chill and pale,
Which like bride, this morn, had decked her
For the advent of that sail.
Oft by Bergen women, mourning,
Shall the dismal tale be told,
Of that lost ship home returning,
With "THE BLACK DEATH" in her hold!
I would gladly dwell on the pleasures of my second visit
to Christiansund, which has a charm of its own, independent
of its interest as the spot from whence we really "start
for home." But though strange lands, and unknown or
indifferent people, are legitimate subjects for travellers'
tales, our FRIENDS and their pleasant homes are NOT; so
I shall keep all I have to say of gratitude to our
excellent and hospitable Consul, Mr. Morch, and of
admiration for his charming wife, until I can tell you
viva voce how much I wish that you also knew them.
And now, though fairly off from Norway, and on our homeward
way, it was a tedious business - what with fogs, calms,
and headwinds - working towards Copenhagen. We rounded
the Scaw in a thick mist, saw the remains of four ships
that had run aground upon it, and were nearly run into
ourselves by a clumsy merchantman, whom we had the relief
of being able to abuse in our native vernacular, and the
most racy sea-slang.
Those five last days were certainly the only tedious
period of the whole cruise. I suppose there is something
magnetic in the soil of one's own country, which may
account for that impatient desire to see it again, which
always grows, as the distance from it diminishes; if so,
London clay, - and its superstratum of foul, greasy,
gas-discoloured mud - began about this time to exercise
a tender influence upon me, which has been increasing
every hour since: it is just possible that the thoughts
of seeing you again may have some share in the matter.
Somebody (I think Fuller) says somewhere, that "every
one with whom you converse, and every place wherein you
tarry awhile, giveth somewhat to you, and taketh somewhat
away, either for evil or for good;" a startling
consideration for circumnavigators, and such like restless
spirits, but a comfortable thought, in some respects,
for voyagers to Polar regions, as (except seals and bears)
few things could suffer evil from us there; though for
our own parts, there were solemn and wholesome influences
enough "to be taken away" from those icy solitudes, if
one were but ready and willing to "stow" them.
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