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1812
(Excerpt)
LIVE the name of Plowden Halsey! | |
| Honor to his hero soul! | |
| Tell the old and noble story, | |
| Wreathe his name with fresher glory, | |
| As the ages roll. | 5 |
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| Off the harbor of New London | |
| Lay a British man-of-war; | |
| By her force our troops annoying, | |
| And our commerce still destroying, | |
| Driving it afar. | 10 |
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| Who will, in the dread torpedo | |
| Sinking down her hull beneath, | |
| Screw the magazine tremendous, | |
| Whose explosive force stupendous | |
| Scatters all in death? | 15 |
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| “I will go,” said Plowden Halsey, | |
| With the red flush on his cheek; | |
| And his slender form grew stately: | |
| All around him wondered greatly, | |
| As they heard him speak. | 20 |
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| “I will go,” said Plowden Halsey, | |
| “Some heart must the peril brave. | |
| Never say that fear appalls me. | |
| Let me go; my country calls me, | |
| Honored, if I save. | 25 |
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| “Let me go; and, safe returning, | |
| Life has higher power to bless. | |
| Let me go; and, even if failing, | |
| Take this comfort mid bewailing,— | |
| Noble failure is success.” * * * * * | 30 |
| Oh, the night was wild and stormy! | |
| Shrouding mists came closely down; | |
| Thick the murky air was glooming, | |
| And the sullen waves were booming; | |
| Dark the tempest’s frown. | 35 |
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| Out into the formless darkness | |
| Strong hands bent the springing oar; | |
| Died away the friendly voices, | |
| Hushed were all the murmured noises; | |
| Died the lights on shore. | 40 |
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| Underneath the tall mast’s shadow | |
| Rowing close, the youth they left; | |
| From the peril still unshrinking, | |
| In the fatal engine sinking, | |
| Under-waves he cleft. | 45 |
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| Poured the rain in rushing torrents, | |
| Down the darkness driven aslope; | |
| Comrades, mid the wild commotion, | |
| Watched the deed of stern devotion | |
| Fearful, yet with hope. | 50 |
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| Ha! the ship has caught the danger! | |
| Lights are hurrying from below! | |
| Peals the alarm-gun! Men are leaping | |
| Into the boats! With swift oars sweeping | |
| Out, to seize the foe. | 55 |
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| Closer round they draw the circle,— | |
| Have they won the fearful prize? | |
| Louder than the pealing thunder, | |
| Bursting all the waves asunder, | |
| Flaming on the skies, | 60 |
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| Comes the terrible explosion! | |
| Vast and hollow is the square | |
| Where the many boats were sailing, | |
| And the awful light is paling, | |
| And no boats are there! | 65 |
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| Reels the ship in foaming waters, | |
| Lashing furious to the shore; | |
| And the storm-rage grows intenser, | |
| And the darkness gathers denser, | |
| Denser than before. | 70 |
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| Where is noble Plowden Halsey? | |
| Vainly do his comrades row | |
| All the night. O night appalling! | |
| Irresponsive to their calling, | |
| Plowden sleeps below. * * * * * | 75 |
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