Argosy All-Story Weekly/Volume 186/Issue 5/The Drowned Captain
THE DROWNED CAPTAIN
In blue-green deeps where writhing eels
And ghost-gray fishes turn and glide,
And crusty crabs dance awkward reels,
Balance and pass from side to side,
The old commander sits and stares
With eyes unseeing on the tribe
Of watery creatures, aye, nor cares
What deep-sea potions they imbibe;
For he is dead and drowned and still,
His ship is sunk and with it he
And all his men; they drink their fill
Of that which bore them once, the sea.
He chose it, loved it as a boy,
He sailed its surface many a year,
It was his mate, his life, his joy,
He dwelt with it, nor had a fear.
But now it overmasters him,
He lost one battle with its waves,
And in a place all still and dim,
He and his men have found their graves.
Above, the ripples ride and run,
The lingering furrow leaves its foam,
The surface glistens in the sun,
While far below he glooms, at home.
No more the tempest or the shock
Of thunderous billows troubles him,
For where he sits beside his rock
Not e’en the weeds move on its rim.
Yes, it is quiet there where they,
He and his men have come to bide,
Gray fish and slow crab are more gay
Than he they softly slip beside.
George Jay Smith.