Page:Poems Toke.djvu/76

68

THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD AT SEA.

IS the evening hour, and all ocean seems
To bask in the glorious sunset beams,—
That light which glows in the burning west,
And falls on the waters' sparkling breast,
Tinging the waves with the gorgeous dyes
And thousand hues of the summer skies.
Soft comes the breeze, and the mighty deep
Is sunk in the calm of a giant's sleep,
Smiling as if beneath that wave
Thousands had found not a stormy grave,
Or the billows' roar and the tempest's moan,
Blent with the seaman's dying groan,
As he sank in the treacherous billow's swell,
With the surge his tomb, and the blast his knell.
Now all is peace, and the waters seem
Gentle and calm as an infant's dream;
Sleeping awhile is their awful power,—
Oh! fearful and fierce its waking hour!

But see! on the waste of waves, alone,
One stately bark goes gallantly on,
Spreading her wings of untainted snow,
To catch the breeze and the sunset glow;