And the days pass, and the weeks pass, And nothing changes but the grass.
But down where the fireflies are like eyes, And the damps shudder, and the mists rise, The hemp-stalks stand up toward the skies.
And down from the poop of the pirate ship A body falls, and the greatsharks grip.
Innocent, lovely, go in grace! At last there is peace upon your face.
And Hawk laughs loud as the corpse is thrown, "The hemp that shall hang me is not grown!"Sir Henry's face is iron to mark, And he gazes ever in the dark.
And the days pass, and the weeks pass, And the world is as it always was.
But down by the marsh the sickles beam, Glitter on glitter, gleam on gleam, And the hemp falls down by the stagnant stream.
And Hawk beats up from the Caribbees, Swooping to pounce in the Northern seas.
Sir Henry sits sunk deep in his chair, And white as his hand is grown his hair.
And the days pass, and the weeks pass, And the sands roll from the hour-glass.
But down by the marsh in the blazing sun The hemp is smoothed and twisted and spun, The rope made, and the work done.
The Using of the Hemp.
Captain Hawk scourged clean the seas (Black is the gap below the plank) From the Great North Bank to the Caribbees (Down by the marsh the hemp grows rank).
He sailed in the broad Atlantic track, And the ships that saw him came not back.
And once again, where the wide tides ran, He stooped to harry a merchantman.
He bade her stop.Ten guns spake true From her hidden ports, and a hidden crew, Lacking his great ship through and through.
Dazed and dumb with the sudden death, He scarce had time to draw a breathBefore the grappling-irons bit deep, And the boarders slew his crew like sheep.
Hawk stood up straight, his breast to the steel; His cutlass made a bloody wheel.
His cutlass made a wheel of flame.They shrank before him as hecame.
And the bodies fell in a choking crowd, And still he thundered out aloud,"The hemp that shall hang me is not grown!" They fled at last.He was left alone.
Before his foe Sir Henry stood."The hemp is grown, and my word made good!"And the cutlass clanged with a hissing whir On the lashing blade of the rapier.
Hawk roared and charged like a maddened buck.As the cobra strikes, Sir Henry struck,Pouring his life in a single thrust, And the cutlass shivered to sparks and dust.
Sir Henry stood on the blood-stained deck, And set his foot on his foe's neck.
Then from the hatch, where the rent decks slope, Where the dead roll and the wounded grope, He dragged the serpent of the rope.
The sky was blue, and the sea was still, The waves lapped softly, hill on hill, And between one wave and another wave The doomed man's cries were little and shrill.
The sea was blue, and the sky was calm; The air dripped with a golden balm.Like a wind-blown fruit between sea and sun, A black thing writhed at a yard-arm.
Slowly then, and awesomely, The ship sank, and the gallows-tree, And there was nought between sea and sun -- Nought but the sun and the sky and the sea.
But down by the marsh where the fever breeds, Only the water chuckles and pleads; For the hemp clings fast to a dead man's throat, And blind Fate gathers back her seeds.
