Politics At Four Winds

More Books

More by this Author

Softly and clearly, while the seawind blew in on them, Anne repeated the beautiful lines of Tennyson's wonderful swan song-- "Crossing the Bar." The old captain kept time gently with his sinewy hand.

"Yes, yes, Mistress Blythe," he said, when she had finished, "that's it, that's it. He wasn't a sailor, you tell me--I dunno how he could have put an old sailor's feelings into words like that, if he wasn't one. He didn't want any `sadness o' farewells' and neither do I, Mistress Blythe--for all will be well with me and mine beyant the bar."