And Other Poems.
25
What were their deeds? We open up the scene—
Behold a spreading city by the sea,
Belted by sunny slopes and plains of green,
And skirted by the foam of breakers free,
That leap and dance for joy along the shore,
Racing like white-haired children on the sand,
Babbling their mother ocean’s mystic lore,
Whisp’ring her secrets to the silent land.
A sabbath calm is resting o’er the place,
And souls are soaring upward from their clay.
Celestial smiles gild nature’s tranquil face,
And thought flies far above life’s little day.
Out on the sleeping waves tall vessels ride
At anchor, all is calm. Ah! will it last?
Look yonder, look! here comes a storm-spent tide;
The murmuring fury of the distant blast
Sweeps in upon us. God! we’re lost! we’re lost!
The boats! the boats! now pull for land and life!
They’re off! they’re safe! they land! though billows tossed
And breakers dashed around them in the strife.
But lo! along the shore the cry is raised,
“Man, man the life boat!” and a willing band
Rush forward at the call. The crowd, amazed,
Behold the gallant fellows leave the land,
And plunge through seething surf and furious foam.
“Hurrah! Hurrah! God speed ye gallant hearts!”
Ah! well might they exclaim, “God speed ye home!”
God took them home: the tear of pity starts,
But not for those who went, but those who weep
For husbands vanished, and for fathers gone.
Be ours the task to honour them that sleep,
By helping those they loved, now left alone;
Be ours the task—nay, friends, ’tis not a task,
It is a debt of duty we’ve to pay.
God speaks to us when babes and widows ask;
We hear His voice in theirs, and we obey.
Behold a spreading city by the sea,
Belted by sunny slopes and plains of green,
And skirted by the foam of breakers free,
That leap and dance for joy along the shore,
Racing like white-haired children on the sand,
Babbling their mother ocean’s mystic lore,
Whisp’ring her secrets to the silent land.
A sabbath calm is resting o’er the place,
And souls are soaring upward from their clay.
Celestial smiles gild nature’s tranquil face,
And thought flies far above life’s little day.
Out on the sleeping waves tall vessels ride
At anchor, all is calm. Ah! will it last?
Look yonder, look! here comes a storm-spent tide;
The murmuring fury of the distant blast
Sweeps in upon us. God! we’re lost! we’re lost!
The boats! the boats! now pull for land and life!
They’re off! they’re safe! they land! though billows tossed
And breakers dashed around them in the strife.
But lo! along the shore the cry is raised,
“Man, man the life boat!” and a willing band
Rush forward at the call. The crowd, amazed,
Behold the gallant fellows leave the land,
And plunge through seething surf and furious foam.
“Hurrah! Hurrah! God speed ye gallant hearts!”
Ah! well might they exclaim, “God speed ye home!”
God took them home: the tear of pity starts,
But not for those who went, but those who weep
For husbands vanished, and for fathers gone.
Be ours the task to honour them that sleep,
By helping those they loved, now left alone;
Be ours the task—nay, friends, ’tis not a task,
It is a debt of duty we’ve to pay.
God speaks to us when babes and widows ask;
We hear His voice in theirs, and we obey.
