Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/193

  For, down a cruel ice-lane, That opened as he sped, We saw dead Hendrick Hudson Steer, North by West, his dead.

So dealt God’s waters with us   Beneath the roaring skies, So walked His signs and marvels All naked to our eyes: But we were heading homeward With trade to lose or make— Good Lord, they slipped behind us   In the tailing of our wake!

Let go, let go the anchors; Now shamed at heart are we To bring so poor a cargo home That had for gift the sea! Let go the great bow-anchor— Ah, fools were we and blind— The worst we stored with utter toil, The best we left behind!

Coastwise—cross-seas—round the world and back again, Whither flaw shall fail us or the Trades drive down: Plain-sail—storm-sail—lay your board and tack again— And all to bring a cargo up to London Town! 

The Song of Diego Valdez
 1902 God of Fair Beginnings Hath prospered here my hand— The cargoes of my lading, And the keels of my command. 