Sailors there are of the gentlest breed, br Yet strong, like every goodly thing; br The discipline of arms refines, br And the wave gives tempering. br The damasked blade its beam can fling; br It lends the last grave grace: br The hawk, the hound, and sworded nobleman br In Titian's picture for a king, br Are of hunter or warrior race. br br In social halls a favored guest br In years that follow victory won, br How sweet to feel your festal fame br In woman's glance instinctive thrown: br Repose is yours--your deed is known, br It musks the amber wine; br It lives, and sheds a light from storied days br Rich as October sunsets brown, br Which make the barren place to shine. br br But seldom the laurel wreath is seen br Unmixed with pensive pansies dark; br There's a light and a shadow on every man br Who at last attains his lifted mark-- br Nursing through night the ethereal spark. br Elate he never can be; br He feels that spirit which glad had hailed his br worth, br Sleep in oblivion.--The shark br Glides white through the phosphorus sea.