| |
| IN slumbers of midnight the sailor-boy lay; | |
| His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind; | |
| But watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away, | |
| And visions of happiness danced o’er his mind. | |
| |
| He dreamt of his home, of his dear native bowers, | 5 |
| And pleasures that waited on life’s merry morn, | |
| While Memory stood sideways, half covered with flowers, | |
| And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn. | |
| |
| Then Fancy her magical pinions spread wide, | |
| And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise; | 10 |
| Now far, far behind him the green waters glide, | |
| And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes. | |
| |
| The jessamine clambers in flowers o’er the thatch, | |
| And the swallow chirps sweet from her nest in the wall; | |
| All trembling with transport he raises the latch, | 15 |
| And the voices of loved ones reply to his call. | |
| |
| A father bends o’er him with looks of delight; | |
| His cheek is impearled with a mother’s warm tear; | |
| And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite | |
| With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear. | 20 |
| |
| The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast; | |
| Joy quickens his pulse, all his hardships seem o’er; | |
| And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest,— | |
| “O God! thou hast blest me,—I ask for no more.” | |
| |
| Ah! whence is that flame which now bursts on his eye? | 25 |
| Ah! what is that sound which now larums his ear? | |
| ’T is the lightning’s red glare, painting hell on the sky! | |
| ’T is the crash of the thunder, the groan of the sphere! | |
| |
| He springs from his hammock, he flies to the deck; | |
| Amazement confronts him with images dire; | 30 |
| Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck; | |
| The masts fly in splinters; the shrouds are on fire. | |
| |
| Like mountains the billows tremendously swell; | |
| In vain the lost wretch calls on mercy to save; | |
| Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell, | 35 |
| And the death-angel flaps his broad wing o’er the wave! | |
| |
| O sailor-boy, woe to thy dream of delight! | |
| In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss. | |
| Where now is the picture that Fancy touched bright,— | |
| Thy parents’ fond pressure, and love’s honeyed kiss? | 40 |
| |
| O sailor-boy! sailor-boy! never again | |
| Shall home, love, or kindred thy wishes repay; | |
| Unblessed and unhonored, down deep in the main, | |
| Full many a fathom, thy frame shall decay. | |
| |
| No tomb shall e’er plead to remembrance for thee, | 45 |
| Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge; | |
| But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be, | |
| And winds in the midnight of winter thy dirge! | |
| |
| On a bed of green sea-flowers thy limbs shall be laid,— | |
| Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow; | 50 |
| Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made, | |
| And every part suit to thy mansion below. | |
| |
| Days, months, years, and ages shall circle away, | |
| And still the vast waters above thee shall roll; | |
| Earth loses thy pattern forever and aye,— | 55 |
| O sailor-boy! sailor-boy! peace to thy soul! | |
| |
