Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/154

 The cordage woven of curses, and the decks With mortal hate and mortal peril paven; From stem to stern the lines of doom engraven That mark for sure inevitable wrecks Those sails predestinate, though no storm vex, To miss on earth and find in hell their haven.

All curses be about her, and all ill Go with her; heaven be dark above her way, The gulf beneath her glad and sure of prey, And, wheresoe'er her prow be pointed, still The winds of heaven have all one evil will Conspirant even as hearts of kings to slay With mouths of kings to lie and smile and pray, And chiefliest his whose wintrier breath makes chill