Then the howling gale o’er
the billows rushed,
And trampled the
sea in its march of wrath;
From stooping clouds the red
lightnings gushed,
And thunders moved
in their blazing path.
’Twas a fearful night,
but my shadowy guide
Had a voice of
glee as we rode on the gale,
For we saw afar a ship on
the tide,
With a bounding
course and a fearless sail.
In darkness it came, like
a storm-sent bird,
But another ship
it met on the wave:
A shock—a shout—but
no more we heard,
For they both
went down to their ocean-grave!
We paused on the misty wing
of the storm,
As a ruddy flash
lit the face of the deep,
And far in its bosom full
many a form
Was swinging down
to its silent sleep.
Another flash! and they seemed
to rest,
In scattered groups,
on the floor of the tide:
The lover and loved, they
were breast to breast,
The mother and
babe, they were side by side.
The leaping waves clapped
their hands in joy,
And gleams of
gold with the waters flowed,
But the peace of the sleepers
knew no alloy,
For all was hushed
in their lone abode!
V.
On, on, like midnight visions,
we passed,
The storm above,
and the surge below,
And shrieking forms swept
by on the blast,
Like demons speeding
on errands of woe.
My spirit sank, for aloft
in the cloud,
A Star-set Flag
on the whirlwind flew,
And I knew that the billow
must be the shroud
Of the noble ship
and her gallant crew.
Her side was striped with
a belt of white,
And a dozen guns
from each battery frowned,
But the lightning came in
a sheet of flame,[B]
And the towering
sails in its folds were wound.
Vain, vain was the shout,
that in battle rout,
Had rung as a
knell in the ear of the foe,
For the bursting deck was
heaved from the wreck,
And the sky was
bathed in the awful glow!
The ocean shook to its oozy
bed,
As the swelling
sound to the canopy went,
And the splintered fires like
meteors shed
Their light o’er
the tossing element.
A moment they gleamed, then
sank in the foam,
And darkness swept
over the gorgeous glare—
They lighted the mariners
down to their home,
And left them
all sleeping in stillness there!
VI.
The storm is hushed, and my
vision is o’er,
The Surf Sprite
changed to a foamy wreath,
The night is deepened along
the shore,
And I thread my
way o’er the dusky heath.
But often again I shall go
to that cliff,
And seek for her
form on the flashing tide,
For I know she will come in
her airy skiff,
And over the sea
we shall swiftly ride!