Reuben and Other Poems/The Two Ships
THE TWO SHIPS
(To G.H.C.S.)
I dream’d I stood on some advanced cliff
Heading the harbourage of Heaven, and watch’d,
From out the open deep, their voyage done,
Ships making port; and these I knew for souls,
Coming from earthly travel home to God,
But in the very guise of ships they came;
Diverse in build, of varying speed, and size
Unequal; and among them, as I look’d,
Chiefly conspicuous, two.
The first swam in,
Beauty incarnate! From the distant blue
Stately emerging, gliding gradual on,
Her visionary towers of swelling snow,
Aerial, azure-spaced, offended not
That crystal atmosphere, shamed not one beam
Of that celestial light. And closer come,
No flaw belittled, no neglect belied
That majesty of mien, but burnish’d shone
Her tapering spars, and glittering-bright her trucks.
Her hull, from cleaving stem to sheering stern;
In gracious lines all freshly-glancing ran,
And in her well-trimmed sails, her ropes all taut,
Her rigging well set-up and rattled-down,
Her order’d decks and steady steering, lay
Proof of a full and unscathed company.
How otherwise the other! Stoutly built,
With engines to give certainty and speed,
She sagg’d and labour’d in that halcyon calm,
Her steam deficient, all her pumps at work,
And hardly made her haven, staggering in
It seem’d at hazard, with that wavering wake.
Nearer, sea-crusted weary sides she show’d,
Dented and scored, and o’er the bow a sail
Suck’d in to stop some gash—and, even so,
Down by the head she was. Her davits yawn’d
Boatless; and of enfeebled strength and stores
Exhausted spoke the details of her gear,
Where all not rust was rotten. Beggarly,
Disabled, unseaworthy, in she crept
Like refuse in the other’s regal wake,
And, ’mid that home of pure perennial joy,
Stank of old sorrows.
Watching both, “What mirth,
What exultation new!” I said, “awaits
The happy Overseers angelical,
When at her berth arrived yon faultless ship
They scan, and, making true report to Him
That builded her and owns, perceive His smile,
But this poor wreck—for other destinies
Launch’d, by her make,—at such her home-return
What but a shamefaced pity can they feel,
And disappointment He?”
Then answer’d one:
“Thou seest the arrival. Hast thou watch’d the voyage?
Happy the ship with cargo well bestow’d
At starting, and in sailing a fair wind:
’Twixt port and port her course set clear, by coasts
Unperilous, o’er roomy waters calm.
But—storms outridden, scarce-escapèd reefs,
Freight slowly won at many a sunder’d port,
Painfully shipp’d and borne thro’ many foes:
Collision suffer’d: and to long endure
The usage of the brine: and yet win home—
This asks for staunchness, strength and enterprise,
This courage claims, and seamanship exact.
And should it not bring honour?”
Hereupon,
The vessel I at first admired, I now
Despised, and “How much happier,” I cried,
“More to be envied, much more glorious,
Nay, in the Builder’s sight, how far more fair,
This crawling-in triumphant, than yon calm
Easy re-entry, unreproved, unproven!”
But he: “Why wilt thou mete the more and less?
Each her due course obedient having sail’d,
Each her desired cargo faithful borne,
Delightful to the Heavenly Eye come both.”