EuCHO0.NET - (^(0o)^) The Pigatory

The people followed wonderingly
    to mark his spectral stare,
And in the tavern silently
    they thronged about him there.
He heard as a man hears in a dream
    the worn old rafters creak,
And Solomon lifted his drinking-jack
    and spoke as a ghost might speak:

"There sat Sir Richard Grenville once;
    in smoke and flame he passed,
"And we were one to fifty-three,
    but we gave them blast for blast.
"From crimson dawn to crimson dawn,
    we held the Dons at bay.
"The dead lay littered on our decks,
    our masts were shot away.

"We beat them back with broken blades,
    till crimson ran the tide;
"Death thundered in the cannon smoke
    when Richard Grenville died.
"We should have blown her hull apart
    and sunk beneath the Main."
The people saw upon his wrists
    the scars of the racks of Spain.

"Where is Bess?" said Solomon Kane.
    "Woe that I caused her tears."
"In the quiet churchyard by the sea
    she has slept these seven years."
The sea-wind moaned at the window-pane,
    and Solomon bowed his head.
"Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
    and the fairest fade," he said.

His eyes were mystical deep pools
    that drowned unearthly things,
And Solomon lifted up his head
    and spoke of his wanderings.
"Mine eyes have looked on sorcery
    in the dark and naked lands,
"Horror born of the jungle gloom
    and death on the pathless sands.

"And I have known a deathless queen
    in a city old as Death,
"Where towering pyramids of skulls
    her glory witnessth.
"Her kiss was like an adder's fang,
    with the sweetness Lilith had,
"And her red-eyed vassals howled for blood
    in that City of the Mad.

"And I have slain a vampire shape
    that sucked a black king white,
"And I roamed through grisly hills
    where dead men walked at night.
"And I have seen heads fall like fruit
    in the slaver's barracoon,
"And I have seen winged demons fly
    all naked in the moon.

"My feet are weary of wandering
    and age comes on apace;
"I fain would dwell in Devon now,
    forever in my place."
The howling of the ocean pack
    came whistling down the gale,
And Solomon Kane threw up his head
    like a hound that snuffs a trail.

A-down the wind like a running pack
    the hounds of the ocean bayed,
And Solomon Kane rose up again
    and girt his Spanish blade.
In his strange cold eyes a vagrant gleam
    grew wayward and blind and bright,
And Solomon put the people by
    and went into the night.

A wild moon rode the wild white clouds,
    the waves in white crests flowed,
When Solomon Kane went forth again
    and no man knew his road.
They glimpsed him etched against the moon,
    where clouds on hilltop thinned;
They heard an eery echoed call
    that whistled down the wind.