Poems for the Sea/Icebergs

by Lydia Sigourney

For works with similar titles, see Iceberg.

ICEBERGS

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The setting Sun, with glorious smile
    Illumed the Atlantic main,
And sweetly cheer'd a noble bark
    That rode the surging plain;
And from its deck, the voyagers
    That cloudless radiance blest,
When lo! a huge, portentous form
    Appear'd on Ocean's breast,

Just at the far horizon's verge,
    A mountain mid the main,
As erst Philistia's giant tower'd
    O'er Israel's tented plain,^[1]
While hoarsely o'er the wave, it seemed
    A threat of terror sped,
"Who thus, with foot of fire, hath dar'd
    My realm of frost to tread?"

Yet on, the gallant steam-ship press'd
    Her flaming heart beat high,
And boldly flow'd her fervid breath,
    In volumes o'er the sky,
Though gathering at their chieftain's nod
    A monster-train drew near,
With frowning helms, by Winter forg'd,
    In panoply severe.

Then, as the watchful stars looked down
    From their untroubled throne,
A rushing flood of crimson light
    Spread forth from zone to zone,—

Aurora Borealis bent
   Her arch around the skies,
And up the wondering billows gazed
   With phosphorescent eyes.

The sleepless Captain at his post
   Firm and undaunted stood,
Though ice was thickening round his keel,
   To chill the seamens' blood.
How tardily that fearful night,
   Told out each measured hour,
While many a prayerful heart invoked
   The Great Deliverer's power.

Up rose the morn, and touched the crowns
   Of all those arctic kings,
With lustre of a thousand rays
   That the rich diamond flings;
And flashing from their vitreous shields
   Reflected colors streamed,
While towers and miniarets^[2] of pearl,
   In fearful brilliance gleamed.

Who led us through that fierce array
   Of foes, so stern and dark,
The buffet of whose iron hands
   Could crush the strongest bark?
Who brought us from their fearful realm
   Unscathed, the tale to tell,
At home, amid a listening group,
   While tears of rapture swell?

Forget Him not,—that God of love,
   But pay the worship due,
And on the altar of the soul
   The incense-flame renew,
To Him, who foiled that frigid host
   Who on their Ocean path,
So terrible in beauty frowned,
   So pitiless in wrath.

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  *The scene here described occurred to the steamship "Great Western," which on her voyage between Europe and the United States, in 1841, passed through a fleet of icebergs, reported by Capt. Hoskins, as between three and four hundred in number, headed by one larger than the rest, whose length was computed at three quarters of a mile, and its entire altitude, above and below the surface, at four hundred feet.

User annotation

1. David and Goliath, 1 Samuel 17.
2. minarets.