Wrecks passed me by. I floated still
A cold and helpless form,
Impelled by Ocean's tyrant will,
An atom 'mid the storm.
Strange visions racked my reeling brain,
Unearthly forms did rise,
And upward through the glassy main
I met my true-love's eyes.
Torn hair, methought, like rays of light,
Fell round me on the flood,
I knew my father's locks so white—
Who tinged those locks with blood?
A cottage with its peaceful thatch
And tapered casement glowed,
My shuddering hand essayed the latch,
But burning lava flowed.
Close to my ear a monster sung,
Green from the creeping slime,
And with his red, protruded tongue
Hissed at me for my crime.
"Is there no grave of rest," I cried,
"Down in the dark, deep sea?"
His hideous jaws he opened wide—
"Where is the rest for thee?"
But lo! there came a spectre-boat,
I hailed not—made no sign,
Yet o'er the wave I ceased to float,
Nor felt the whelming brine.
I waked—how long had been my sleep!
How dreamless my repose!
Strange faces seemed the watch to keep,
They were my country's foes.
Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/193
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
192
THE DISOBEDIENT SON.