And faces icy pale;
A newly risen wind
Moaned mournfully behind,
Drugged up the shuddering demon by the hair,
Then crushed him backward to his smoky lair,
And shrieked in shroud and sail.
Higher, higher, higher, higher,
Panting and shrieking, clomb the fiend of Fire;
Until the radiance of the moon was drowned,
And the red light with breath of furnace heat
Now ghastlily illumed us head to feet,
Now with a smoky blackness wrapt in round.
Then ever and anon with smothered cries,
With waving arms and blood-red eyes,
The fiend fell fainting with a softer sound,
And in a pause as still and calm as death
We heard the ocean moan with quiet breath,
Until the demon-shape was up again,
Shrieking like one in pain,
And the quick heart seemed throbbing in the brain.
Fire!—fire!—fire!—fire!
The waters struggled with its strength in vain!
Fire!— fire!—fire!—fire!
Cried men and women, going to and fro;
But higher, higher, higher, higher, higher,
Panting on cheeks still pale amid the glow,
With clouds of flame that seemed to melt and grow—
The raving fiend surged upward from his pyre
At white heat down below.

Then, up and down the deck with shrieks and cries
Ran women wringing hands—
One, that sweet maid, whose eyes
Mixed dust of gold with my heart's sinking sand—
Some, leading little ones that sobbed in fright,
And called them by tender piteous names;
While men rushed here and there with faces white,
And heaped the waves of ocean on the flames.
But climbing higher, higher, higher,
Panting in sobs and shrieks, and with a power
Increasing with the minutes of the hour,
The fiend of Fire
Scattered his sparks above us in a shower.

I had forgot the woman in my fear,
But now I saw her standing calmly near,
Watching the dim red shallow of the light,
Reflected up among the stars of night:
The radiance fell like blood upon her face,
And like a blood-red garment wrapt her frame,
And in her silent horror I could trace
The shadow of the sin I cannot name,
The sin of that red threat
Of death, whose mad remembrance haunts me yet,
A bitter sorrow and a cruel aim.
My limbs were struck to stone,
A freezing ice was in my blood and bone,
When on my terror struck a sudden cry
To man the boats, and fly!

Her eye flashed back on mine, and ere she wist,
I reached her side and took her by the wrist,
And with my breath upon her eyes and hair
I pointed, speechless, to the furnace-flare,
The radiant cavern where
Th' unconquerable demon shrieked and hissed;
All then was silent, and she might have heard
My aching heart (although I spake no word)
Beat thick towards the lips I once had kissed.
Her sin was palpable in that huge dread
Which made her crouch before me,
And she was silent as a corse whose fled
Soul might be moaning in the brightness o'er me;
Yet gazing on her with a heart fall'n dead,
I seemed to pity her for the hate she bore me.

And thus we stood together, while the Fire
Seethed round about in jets of lurid light,
And ever climbing higher, higher, higher,
Ate at the heart of Night.
"Forward!" the Master cried:
The boats were tossing at the lost ship's side,
Full of dark shapes of men and women frail,
With utter fear grown dumb,
And dread of something terrible to come,
With the red light upon their faces pale.

I started from my trance in pain and wonder.
And, dropping to a full frail boat, forgot
The sinful woman whom I pitied not,
What time a sound like groaning distant thunder
Threatened to rend the burning ship asunder.
"Off!" cried the Master, and we swung away,
Rising and falling with the waves of ocean,
Surging from side to side with even motion,
Amid a slender mist of salt sea-spray.
We pulled with willing heart and willing mind,
While words of cheer passed on from lip to lip,
And every eye looked backward on the ship
Flaming along before a steady wind.
Then I again was 'ware
Of the pale woman, sitting by me there,
And gazing, as before, with quiet eyes
At the ship's shadow flaming in the skies,
Blind to all other sorrow, hope, or care.

A burning beacon on the sighing sea,
The ship swept on beneath the stars and moon,
That quiet night of June;
And when the light itself was lost to me,
And the sweet stars were seen again, like Love,
I followed those despairing eyes with mine,
And saw the moving shadow duskly shine
Still in the mists of moonlight up above.
Then o'er the long sea-wave
A sudden murmur came,
The shade died out in one bright jet of flame
The ship had fallen to its homeless grave.
But still my wedded wife was at my side,
Gazing on heaven, pale and eager-eyed,
Lost to the sense of hope no love could save.
I murmured in my heart:
"If Heaven shall spare my life, so I her shame:
But she shall part for ever with my name,
And we will dwell apart."
And, looking on her woe, I said again:
"The punishment is God's, and ours the pain;
The sin is hers and mine, though hers the deed
That choked our dreams of heaven while we slept;
This tongue which made her love me in my need
Shall never sting her bosom till it bleed—
For I have sinned against her." And I wept.

The orange dawn broke in the east at last,
And kindling into wider crimson shone
On faces blanched with danger not yet passed,
And two frail boats upon the sea alone;
And scarce a word was spoken,
But though our tongues were silent we were
          praying,
Each knew the prayer his neighbour's heart was
          saying,
And in the calm unbroken
Each sought another's glances as a token.
Then spake the Master words of hearty cheer,
That Spanish ground, or else he erred, was near,
And with a pause of joy,
We travellers, woman, man, and boy,
Then prayed aloud with many a thankful tear.
And thus the boats sailed swiftly on together,
Straining with sail and oar