V

Under these shouldering rows of stone

That notch the quiet sky;

Under the asphalt's transient seal

The same old mud-flats lie;

And I have felt them surge and lift

At night as I passed by.

Yes, I have seen them sprawling nude

While an Autumn moon hung chill,

And the tide came shuddering in from sea,

Lift by lift, until

It held them under a silver mesh,

Responsive to its will.

Then slowly out from the crowding walls

I have seen the gibbets grow,

And stand against the empty sky

In a desolate, windblown row,

While their dancers swayed, and turned, and spun,

Tripping it heel and toe;

With a flash of gold where the peering moon

Saw an earring as it swung,

And a silver line that leapt and died

Where the salt-white sea-boots hung,

And the pitiful, nodding, silent heads,

With half of their songs unsung.