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(From The Isle of Palms)
BUT list! a low and moaning sound | |
| At distance heard, like a spirit’s song, | |
| And now it reigns above, around, | |
| As if it called the ship along. | |
| The moon is sunk; and a clouded gray | 5 |
| Declares that her course is run, | |
| And, like a god who brings the day, | |
| Up mounts the glorious sun. | |
| Soon as his light has warmed the seas, | |
| From the parting cloud fresh blows the breeze; | 10 |
| And that is the spirit whose well-known song | |
| Makes the vessel to sail in joy along. | |
| No fears hath she;—her giant form | |
| O’er wrathful surge, through blackening storm, | |
| Majestically calm would go | 15 |
| Mid the deep darkness white as snow! | |
| But gently now the small waves glide | |
| Like playful lambs o’er a mountain’s side. | |
| So stately her bearing, so proud her array, | |
| The main she will traverse for ever and aye. | 20 |
| Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast!— | |
| Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last. | |
| Five hundred souls in one instant of dread | |
| Are hurried o’er the deck; | |
| And fast the miserable ship | 25 |
| Becomes a lifeless wreck. | |
| Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock, | |
| Her planks are torn asunder, | |
| And down come her masts with a reeling shock, | |
| And a hideous crash like thunder. | 30 |
| Her sails are draggled in the brine | |
| That gladdened late the skies, | |
| And her pendant that kissed the fair moonshine | |
| Down many a fathom lies. | |
| Her beauteous sides, whose rainbow hues | 35 |
| Gleamed softly from below, | |
| And flung a warm and sunny flush | |
| O’er the wreaths of murmuring snow, | |
| To the coral rocks are hurrying down | |
| To sleep amid colors as bright as their own. | 40 |
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| O, many a dream was in the ship | |
| An hour before her death; | |
| And sights of home with sighs disturbed | |
| The sleepers’ long-drawn breath. | |
| Instead of the murmur of the sea | 45 |
| The sailor heard the humming tree | |
| Alive through all its leaves, | |
| The hum of the spreading sycamore | |
| That grows before his cottage-door, | |
| And the swallow’s song in the eaves. | 50 |
| His arms enclosed a blooming boy, | |
| Who listened with tears of sorrow and joy | |
| To the dangers his father had passed; | |
| And his wife,—by turns she wept and smiled, | |
| As she looked on the father of her child | 55 |
| Returned to her heart at last.— | |
| He wakes at the vessel’s sudden roll, | |
| And the rush of waters is in his soul. | |
| Astounded the reeling deck he paces, | |
| Mid hurrying forms and ghastly faces;— | 60 |
| The whole ship’s crew are there! | |
| Wailings around and overhead, | |
| Brave spirits stupefied or dead, | |
| And madness and despair. | |
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| Leave not the wreck, thou cruel boat! | 65 |
| While yet ’t is thine to save, | |
| And angel-hands will bid thee float | |
| Uninjured o’er the wave, | |
| Though whirlpools yawn across thy way, | |
| And storms, impatient for their prey, | 70 |
| Around thee fiercely rave! | |
| Vain all the prayers of pleading eyes, | |
| Of outcry loud and humble sighs, | |
| Hands clasped, or wildly tossed on high | |
| To bless or curse in agony! | 75 |
| Despair and resignation vain! | |
| Away like a strong-winged bird she flies, | |
| That heeds not human miseries, | |
| And far off in the sunshine dies | |
| Like a wave of the restless main! | 80 |
| Hush! hush! Ye wretches left behind! | |
| Silence becomes the brave, resigned | |
| To unexpected doom. * * * * * | |
| Now is the ocean’s bosom bare, | |
| Unbroken as the floating air; | 85 |
| The ship hath melted quite away, | |
| Like a struggling dream at break of day. | |
| No image meets my wandering eye | |
| But the new-risen sun, and the sunny sky. | |
| Though the night-shades are gone, yet a vapor dull | 90 |
| Bedims the waves so beautiful; | |
| While a low and melancholy moan | |
| Mourns for the glory that hath flown. | |
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