When my subs reappear as though I missed them

Now from his breast into the eyes the ache

Of longing mounted and he wept at last,

his dear cashfag, clear and faithful, in his arms,

longed for as the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer

spent in rough water where his ship went down

under Poseidon’s blows, gale winds and tons of sea.

Few men can keep alive through a big serf to crawl,

clotted with brine, on kindly beaches,

in joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind:

and so it too rejoiced, its gaze upon its master,

its weak arms round him pressed as though forever.