Page:The Overland Monthly, Jan-June 1894.djvu/189

And every crest of bounding billow breaks;
The porpoise, sporting in the hurrying tide,
Exultant springs, and shows his glist'ning side;
No ship displays its welcome signal light;
But lonely is the sea, and long the night.

Then in the darkness just before the dawn,
From wave to wave the boat is speeding on.
And all the stars from heaven are lost and gone.
Oh horror! What dread anguish fills the soul?
What doom impends? What demon has control?
A fog, more dark than night, with sudden fall,
Enveloped boat and sea with sable pall;
And all the waves and all the waters free,
Went hurrying onward to the open sea.

The youth, though oft in common danger tried,
Now sank appalled; within him, courage died.
"O Heaven!" he cried, "O send some fav'ring wind,
For, in this dungeon darkness, I am blind."
Then daylight dawned, but denser seemed the wall,
That hung about them like a funeral pall;
And all the waves, and all the waters free,
Went hurrying onward to the open sea.

At last the youth in frenzied accents cried,
"Reverse your oars and row against the tide."
Then turned the little boat, and stemmed the stream,
But gliding with the current still they seem;
They drift along, but whence the course, or where
The port, no human wisdom could declare.
The day is drawing on apace, but dark
And dense the fog that shrouds the little bark;
And still they drift in labyrinths obscure,
Each moment seems to make destruction sure.

Then thoughts of home assail his anxious mind,
Of all that young ambition left behind,
A mother's admonition, and a sweetheart's sigh,
A pledge to conquer destiny or die,
To win success, whate'er the effort cost;
And now, in this Sahara, he is lost.

He sees in fancy, 'neath the waters pure,
His image, floating without sepulture,
And down among the shells and mossy stones,
Lie, all unburied, his unquiet bones.
In wild dismay he sinks, in dumb despair
His lips invoke the Deity in prayer.