Fair is our lot -- O goodly is our heritage!
The Coastwise Lights
Our brows are bound with spindrift and the weed is on our knees,
The Song of the Dead
Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges,
The Deep-Sea Cables
The wrecks dissolve above us; their dust drops down from afar --,
The Song of the Sons
One from the ends of the earth -- gifts at an open door --,
The Song of the Cities
Royal and Dower-royal, I the Queen,
Truly ye come of The Blood; slower to bless than to ban,
THE FIRST CHANTEY
Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her,
THE LAST CHANTEY
Thus said The Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim,
King Solomon drew merchantmen,
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
I sent a messa
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