Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/Scene after a hurricane
SCENE AFTER A HURRICANE,ON THE WESTERN COAST OF IRELAND. BOAT FREIGHTED WITH DEAD BODIES.
Hark! hear ye not that piercing cry, That doleful mourning, long and loud?The echoing rocks and hills reply To the deep wailing of the crowd.
A boat appears! with outstretched hand And eager eyes her course they hail;But scarcely does she touch the strand, Again resounds that mournful wail.
That boat contains a solemn freight Of human corses, lately glowing With life and health, perchance elate With happiness o'erflowing.
Redeemed from the devouring tide, The empty caskets now are borne,Each to his own beloved fireside,— Alas that thus they should return!
The animating spirits fled, Ah! what avails the lifeless clay?The piercing "keen cry" o'er the dead With empty sound shall pass away!
But let not thus the warning pass Which issues from their humble biers,As many a warning voice, alas! Is heard with dull and deathlike ears.
The winds repeat the solemn sound, The waters in each rushing wave;Destruction both have scattered round, And yawned hath many an early grave!
Full many a fabric man hath reared, One awful moment levelled low,When, to perform his will prepared, God bade the angry wind to blow.
It swept through nature's wide domain, The forest's pride was prostrate cast;The growth of ages strewed the plain, Loud groaning in the ruthless blast.
But who can count the human souls That perished in that fearful gale?When the last trumpet shakes the poles, It—it alone—shall tell the tale.
When God's almighty power appeared In tempests bursting o'er his head,The "still, small voice" Elijah heard, As to his cave he trembling fled.
And shall not we, by mercy spared, While judgment thus has stalked abroad, Be by such dread events prepared To listen to the voice of God?
That gentle voice, O, may we hear In the deep silence of the heart,Dispelling all but godly fear, And bidding every sin depart!