Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/60

38 An' I was drowsin' on the hatch—sick—sick wi' doubt an' tire:

' Better the sight of eyes that see than wanderin' o' desire! '

Ye mind that word? Clear as our gongs—again, an' once again,

When rippin' down through coral-trash ran out our moorin'-chain;

An' by Thy Grace I had the Light to see my duty plain.

Light on the engine-room—no more—bright as our carbons burn.

I've lost it since a thousand times, but never past return.

Obsairve! Per annum we'll have here two thousand souls aboard—

Think not I dare to justify myself before the Lord,

But—average fifteen hunder souls safe-borne fra' port to port—

I am o' service to my kind. Ye wadna blame the thought?

Maybe they steam from grace to wrath—to sin by folly lead,—

It isna mine to judge their path—their lives are on my head.