THE FISHERMEN OF WEXFORD.
177
Gleaming whitely through, the water, fathoms deep they saw its frown,—
They saw its white hand clenched above it,—sinking slowly down!
And then there was a rushing 'neath the boats, and every soul
Was thrilled with greed: they knew it was the seaward-going shoal!
Defying the dread warning, every face was sternly set,
And wildly did they ply the oar, and wildly haul the net.
But two boats' crews obeyed the sign,—God-fearing men were they,—
They cut their lines and left their nets, and homeward sped away;
But darkly rising sternwards did God's wrath in tempest sweep.
And they, of all the fishermen, that night escaped the deep.
