Chapter VI
“Next drive we o’er the slimy-weeded sea.`Lo! herebeneath’ (another coward cries)`The cursed land of sunk Atlantis lies:This slime will suck us down—turn while thou’rt free!’—`But no!’ I said, `Freedom bears West for me!’Yet when the long-time stagnant winds arise,And day by day the keel to westward flies,My Good my people’s Ill doth come to be:`Ever the winds into the West do blow;Never a ship, once turned, might homeward go;Meanwhile we speed into the lonesome main.For Christ’s sake, parley, Admiral! Turn, beforeWe sail outside all bounds of help from pain!’—`Our help is in the West,’ I said once more.