and shimmering from silvern into golden,
With the sea-winds through the sunlit spaces blowing.

As I came down to South Street by the glimmering, tossing water, the
sweet wind blew, oh, softly, sweetly blew
O'er the lean, black docks piled high with curious bales,
Odorous casks, and bundles, of foreign goods,
And all the long ships with their fair, tall sails,
Lading the winey air with the spices of alien woods.

As I came down by the winding streets to the wondrous green
sea-water, the sounds along the water-front were tuned to fine
accord;
I heard the racket of the halliards slapping,
Along the bare poles stabbing up aloft;
I saw loose men, their garments ever flapping,
Lounging a-row along each ruined wooden stair:
Their untamed faces in the golden sun were soft,
But their hard, bright eyes were wild, and in the sun's soft flare
Nothing they saw but sounding seas and the crash of ravening wind;
Nothing but furious struggle with toil that never would end.
The call of mine ancient sea was clamoring through their blood;
Ah, they all felt that call, but nothing they understood,
As I came down by the winding streets to South Street by the water.

As I came down to South Street by the soft sea-water, I saw long
ships, their mast-heads ever bowing:
Sweet slender maids in clinging gowns of golden,
Curtseying stately in a fashion olden,
Bowing sweetly--each a king's fair daughter--
To me, their millionth, millionth lover,
I, the seventh son of the old sea-rover,
As I came down to South Street by the myriad moving water.

THE INABILITY TO INTERFERE

BY MARY HEATON VORSE

To myself I could be articulate enough about it. Indeed, I held long
conversations about it, mainly in the darkness of the night, with my
bolder self, who advised me so cleverly and who told me all the
tactful things and all the forceful things that I ought on occasion to
say. Then there came, with that other self, a conversation which
settled things. It went something in this way:

"You have let things go far enough."

"Yes," I admitted guiltily, "I know it."

"It's time you took a stand."

"I know it," I again admitted forlornly.

"Why don't you do it then?" sternly asked the bolder self. He could
afford to be bold, it wasn't he who had the talking to do. "Why don't
you explain to Felicia the way you feel about it and how it looks and
all about it---