eleven o'clock
Waves mute appeal and sore , Above the midriff 's deep distress , For breath to laugh once more . No creed hath dared to hail him Lord , No raptured choirs proclaim , And Nature 's strenuous Overword Hath nowhere breathed his name . Yet , may it be , on wayside jape , The selfsame Power bestows The selfsame power as went to shape His Planet or His Rose . STEAM TACTICS I caught sight of their faces as we came up behind the cart in the narrow Sussex lane ; but though it was not eleven o'clock , they were both asleep . That the carrier was on the wrong side of the road made no difference to his language when I rang my bell . He said aloud of motor-cars , and specially of steam ones , all the things which I had read in the faces of superior coachmen . Then he pulled slantwise across me .