44
harold, the wanderer.
As the waters close o'er his dying form.
'Tis vain that Harold springs to save
Poor Ernold from his ocean grave!—
With a tearful eye he listens to the wild surge,
Chanting his lost companion's dirge:
The drops that glitter on his cheek,
Of all his heartfelt grief bespeak.
Deeply he mourns his lost companion's fate
And his own lonely and friendless state.
For three long days they flew before the storm,
And by the ocean currents swiftly borne;
The gale still raging, all was dark and drear,—
No human arm, or kindly help was near.
Sea after sea now dashing o'er her deck,
Threatening each moment to make the poor ship a wreck.
Her sails now torn by the fearful blast,
The winds howling hideously thro' cordage and mast.
Now struck by a sea, which made every timber quake,
A fearful shriek was heard, as over-board went our mate,—
Like a bird she still flew o'er each mountain wave,
All anxiously hoping their lives might be saved,—
When the watch cried aloud "There are breakers a-head,"—
'Tis vain that Harold springs to save
Poor Ernold from his ocean grave!—
With a tearful eye he listens to the wild surge,
Chanting his lost companion's dirge:
The drops that glitter on his cheek,
Of all his heartfelt grief bespeak.
Deeply he mourns his lost companion's fate
And his own lonely and friendless state.
For three long days they flew before the storm,
And by the ocean currents swiftly borne;
The gale still raging, all was dark and drear,—
No human arm, or kindly help was near.
Sea after sea now dashing o'er her deck,
Threatening each moment to make the poor ship a wreck.
Her sails now torn by the fearful blast,
The winds howling hideously thro' cordage and mast.
Now struck by a sea, which made every timber quake,
A fearful shriek was heard, as over-board went our mate,—
Like a bird she still flew o'er each mountain wave,
All anxiously hoping their lives might be saved,—
When the watch cried aloud "There are breakers a-head,"—
