And the shrill hammers on the anvil beat And thus, dear children, have ye made for me And to my more than threescore years and ten The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought Only your love and your remembrance could And make these branches, leafless now so long, SONG. STAY, stay at home, my heart, and rest; For those that wander they know not where Weary and homesick and distressed, Contributions for the purchase of the chair came from some seven hundred children of the public schools. Mr. Longfellow had this poem, which he wrote on the day the chair was given him, printed on a sheet, and was accustomed to give a copy to each child who visited him and sat in the chair. THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. And are baffled and beaten and blown about To stay at home is best. Then stay at home, my heart, and rest; O'er all that flutter their wings and fly THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughtèr, Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, The skipper he stood beside the helm, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow Then up and spake an old Sailòr, Had sailed to the Spanish Main, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane. "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" 55 The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, Colder and louder blew the wind, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, "Come hither! come hither! my little daughtèr, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. "O father! I hear the church-bells ring, "O father! I hear the sound of guns, Oh say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" 66 "O father! I see a gleaming light, Oh say, what may it be?" THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. 57 But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, And fast through the midnight dark and drear, And ever the fitful gusts between The breakers were right beneath her bows, And a whooping billow swept the crew She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, The salt sea was frozen on her breast, And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed, Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, Christ save us all from a death like this, THE BELLS OF LYNN. HEARD AT NAHANT.2 O CURFEW of the setting sun! O Bells of Lynn ! From the dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted, Your sounds aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn! It was the loss of a real schooner Hesperus, off the reef of Norman's Woe, near Gloucester, Massachusetts, which suggested this ballad to the poet. 2 Nahant, a promontory running out from Lynn beach, was long a summer home of Mr. Longfellow. Though there is no rhyme, the steady recurrence of the phrase, “O Bells of Lynn," gives both rhythmic swing and the effect of rhyme. |