Poems (Chilton, 1885)/Shipwreck
SHIPWRECK.
A long, low reach of level sand, Packed erewhile by the maddened wavesAs the storm-wind drove them toward the land:— A boat on the shore, and nothing more,Tells of the dead who sank to their graves To the sound of the wild sea's roar.
The ship went down at night they say, Wrestling with winds and waves to the last,—Like a great sea-monster fighting at bay. The fisherman tells how he heard the bellsRing in the lulls of the pitiless blast, Mingled with wild farewells.
The winds are asleep and the sea is still, Still as the wrecked beneath its waves—Dreamless of all life's good or ill. A boat on the shore and nothing moreTells of the dead who sank to their graves To the sound of the wild sea's roar!