I
We gave them at the harbor every token--
The ritual of the guns, and at the mast
The flag half-high, and as the cortege passed,
All that remained by our dumb hearts unspoken.
And what within the band's low requiem,
In footfall or in head uncovered fails
Of final tribute, shall at altar-rails
Around a chancel soon be offered them.
And now a throbbing organ-prelude dwells
On the eternal story of the sea;
Following in undertone, the Litany
Ends like a sobbing wave; and now begins
A tale of life's fore-shortened days; now swells
The tidal triumph of Corinthians.