Scenes and Hymns of Life, with Other Religious Poems/Prayer at Sea after Victory
PRAYER AT SEA AFTER VICTORY.
The land shall never rue,
So England to herself do prove but true.
Shakspeare.
Through evening's bright repose
A voice of prayer arose,
When the sea-fight was done:
The sons of England knelt,
With hearts that now could melt,
Round their tall ship, the main
Heaved with a dark red stain,
Caught not from sunset's cloud;
While with the tide swept past
Pennon and shivered mast,
But free and fair on high,
A native of the sky,
Her streamer met the breeze;
It flowed o'er fearless men,
Though hushed and child-like then,
Oh! did not thoughts of home
O'er each bold spirit come
As, from the land, sweet gales?
In every word of prayer
Had not some hearth a share,
Yes! bright green spots that lay
In beauty far away,
Hearing no billow's roar;
Safer from touch of spoil,
For that day's fiery toil,
A solemn scene, and dread!
The victors and the dead,
The breathless burning sky!
And, passing with the race
Of waves, that keep no trace,
A stern, yet holy scene!
Billows, where strife hath been,
Sinking to awful sleep;
And words, that breathe the sense
Of God's omnipotence,
Borne through such hours afar,
Thy flag hath been a star,
Where eagle's wing ne'er flew;—
England! the unprofaned,
Those of the hearths unstained,