#lit fuse

PART FIRST

Down the Delaware, some miles  From the salt air of the Bay, Where the mighty stream still whiles  Slumberingly along his way, Stands the little town which took Somehow the name of Marcus Hook.

Founded by the blue-eyed Swede  Was it in the days of old, When o'er forest, flood and mead  Ruled John Printz, the governor bold, And the music of the drum Echoed over Tinicum.

Empty is the village street  On this wild September night, All deserted by men's feet,  Though the winds are in their might, When, in groups of three or four, Come some figures up the shore

From the misty river-places,  Where the fish-hawk has his home, With their cloaks about their faces,  Like conspirators they come, Striding through the rainy night Toward the tavern's glimmering light.

How the equinoctial blows!  Down about the salty capes, Where the wrecker's beacon glows,  Early morning shipwrecked shapes Shall discover, cold and wan, Thinks Dame Rambo of The Swan .

Daughter of a Norseman she,  Who with Minuit sought this shore, Wandering over land and sea,  As his sires had done of yore, And by Delaware's brown flood Learned to calm his viking blood.

Little cares she for the gale,  Slam of shutter, dash of rain, Drawing for her patrons ale  Thor himself would not disdain, Such as once, 'mid song and story, Foamed o'er Thule's hills in glory.

Later points the ancient clock,  Standing grimly by the wall; “Ten”—its wizard bells now knock  In their tower so dark and tall; Few the guests that still remain, When a sound comes from the rain:

Steps and voices—those of men—  Shaking out of storm-drenched cloaks On the tavern porch—and then  In the door, with beard which smokes From the wet, tempestuous night, Walks a figure to the light.

Tall and most fantastic dressed—  Round his shoulders drawn a cape— Scarlet had it been at best,  Now, about his lusty shape, Like a sea-waif, breaker flung, Faded by the wave it hung.

Ted in knots with ribbons gay  Was the sable beard he wore; Bright he smiled (so gleams the day  Through dark clouds when tempests roar) Bowed and from his low-bent head Took a cap bizarre: then said:

“Madam, to your goodly cheer  Could I bring my comrades in? Wild the night outside and drear.  From the storm's on-coming din Took we refuge in the Bay. Sailors are we, frank and gay.”

From the tables where they sat,  Hard the village gossips stared; In their hands the ale grew flat,  But no word nor sign they dared As Dame Rambo to the tall Guest replied: “Be welcome all!”

Then, in costumes bright and strange,  With a foreign air about them, As though, in their merry range,  Few the seas had been without them, Came these mariners, no man Knew from whence, into The Swan .

PART SECOND

How they drank the bitter ale!  How their bonny beards did wag! Like the berserks, bold and hale,  Who beneath some forebear's flag Once held Yule-tide revelries, Seemed they to Dame Rambo's eyes.

Midnight—struck the old Norse clock;  Louder rang the jovial laugh; More than any of his wild flock  Did the gay first-comer quaff; Sitting near the fire-place wide, With a beaker by his side.

Red the flames shone on his face;  Lit a belted dagger's hilt; “Madam,” quoth he, “by your grace  I a sailor's song will lilt.” Then, with pantomime which ran With his singing, he began.

SONG

1

“Down in the sea-sands,  Where the gull screams, Buried by my hands,  Bright treasure gleams. O'er it a pale ghost  Hovers for ever; Him from his mammon  Death cannot sever; Where his gold glittered  Aye was his soul; Therefore I killed him  To guard it from mole— Killed him to guard it  From man and from mole.

2

“I a gallant am  For whom doves wrangle; In my beard's meshes  Sweet hearts I tangle. Far in Barbados,  Where grows the cane, Seven lovely lady-birds  Deck I with gain. Five in the Carolines,  Three here I kiss; Wedded with priest-book  Each one, I wis— Wedded with candles  And priest-book, I wis.

3

“ I am the pirate,   Blackbeard, the rover. Under my red flag   I skim the seas over.  Keen is my cutlass,   Cold as my heart  When against foemen   Bear I my part.  But when from fair hands   Bubbles the cheer,  Who more benign   Than the bold buccaneer?—  Gay and benign   Than the bold buccaneer?”

Silent for a moment's space  Was the tavern when he ceased, Save that still, outside the place,  Roared the tempest from the east, Then—a bacchanalian sound— Went the rovers' plaudits round.

Pale the villagers with fright.  This the Blackbeard and his crew, Of whose deeds the pitchy night  Was the only emblem true? This the pirate who along All the coast had stamped his wrong?

But in old dame Rambo's eyes  Calmly shone their wonted light; Terror weak she did despise;  Courage was her race's right; Something even did she ken Which she loved in these wild men.

And when from his fire-lit seat—  While the others round him stand— Rose the captain to his feet,  With a beaker in his hand, Smiled she, as each sea-dog hale Drank her health in nut-brown ale.

Then, while every gossip wondered,  From beneath his scarlet cape Blackbeard drew a bag, and sundered  All its tightly-twisted tape. Lo, what gold and silver bright Lay before Dame Rambo's sight!

“Madam, ere once more we fly  O'er the deep, take this souvenir; Never, under any sky  Have we tasted better cheer— I and my bold corsair band.” Thus he spoke, with cap in hand.

Low he bowed, as when he entered:  “Now, my merry men, away!” On them were all gazes centered  Till were gone their figures gay; And The Swan's lamps dimly shone On the villagers alone.

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Blackbeard

Arthur Peterson  1851-1932

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Just a little drabble; it may pop up later in a fic, but for now, I had to get it on ‘paper’ so to speak. 

You were in a particularly bad mood when Loki stormed into the Avengers’ common kitchen. He stopped when he realized that you were in front of the coffee machine with your back to him, and you were apparently lost in thought, since you didn’t move aside for him.

He waited impatiently for several minutes for you to acknowledge him before clearing his throat more loudly than necessary. You jumped at the sound, then turned to face him.

“Do you mind?” He asked, motioning toward the counter.