In a strange, dreamlike scene, the speaker sways at the gaudy stern of a ship, near the steering oar, while men run along the shore. Everyone is fixed on one sight: a shrouded figure laid out on a bright ceremonial bed. The speaker wants to quiet the crowd, but no one will stop asking about the body, and even fish rise to the surface, calling the figure by “the sweet name of Death.” What moves them is not fear but awe — the body has “such dignity of limb.” Though the speaker puts a finger to his lips, he cannot help joining the chant. Fish, crowd, and ship cry out all night over the glittering sea. The mood is hypnotic, ecstatic, and slightly eerie: death is not mourned here but almost worshipped.
His Dream — Summary
I swayed upon the gaudy stern The butt end of a steering oar, And everywhere that I could turn Men ran upon the shore.
And though I would have hushed the crowd There was no mother's son but said, 'What is the figure in a shroud Upon a gaudy bed?'
And fishes bubbling to the brim Cried out upon that thing beneath, --It had such dignity of limb-- By the sweet name of Death.
Though I'd my finger on my lip, What could I but take up the song? And fish and crowd and gaudy ship Cried out the whole night long,
Crying amid the glittering sea, Naming it with ecstatic breath, Because it had such dignity By the sweet name of Death.