39 (the flood at last has)


THE FLOOD, at last, has come upon

your dry river-bed.

Cry for the boatman,

cut the cordage,

launch the boat.

Take your oars, my comrades,

your debt has grown heavy,

for you have spent idle days at the landing,

hesitating to buy and sell.

Pull up the anchor,

set the sails,

let happen what may.

 

 

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