(Southampton Docks: October, 1899)
While the far farewell music thins and fails, And the broad bottoms rip the bearing brine -All smalling slowly to the gray sea line -And each significant red smoke-shaft pales, Keen sense of severance everywhere prevails, Which shapes the late long tramp of mounting men To seeming words that ask and ask again:
"How long, O striving Teutons, Slavs, and Gaels Must your wroth reasonings trade on lives like these, That are as puppets in a playing hand? -When shall the saner softer polities Whereof we dream, have play in each proud land, And patriotism, grown Godlike, scorn to stand Bondslave to realms, but circle earth and seas?"
