Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/366

 We have tossed and wandered, yearning For a charm that comes no more From the old lights by the shore: We have shamed ourselves in learning What you knew so long before.

For the Breed of the Far-going Who are strangers, and all brothers, May forget no more than others Who looked seaward with eyes flowing. But are brothers to bewail One who fought so foul a gale? You have won beyond our knowing, You are gone, but yet we sail.



in the west the mountain stands,
 * And through the long twilight

Vickery sits with folded hands,
 * And Vickery's eyes are bright.

Bright, for he knows what no man else
 * On earth as yet may know:

There's a golden word that he never tells,
 * And a gift that he will not show.

He dreams of honor and wealth and fame,
 * He smiles, and well he may;

For to Vickery once a sick man came
 * Who did not go away.

The day before the day to be,
 * "Vickery," said the guest,

"You know as you live what's left of me—
 * And you shall know the rest.

