The shepherd of that wandering flock, Of the sailor's heart, All its pleasures and its griefs, And lift and drift, with terrible force, The will from its moorings and its course. "Like unto ships far off at sea, And climb the crystal wall of the skies, As if we could slide from its outer brink. It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, That rock and rise With endless and uneasy motion, Now sinking into the depths of ocean. To the toil and the task we have to do, Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, P And see! she stirs! She starts, she moves,-she seems to feel And, spurning with her foot the ground, And lo! from the assembled crowd How beautiful she is! How fair Through wind and wave, right onward steer! Are not the signs of doubt or fear. Sail forth into the sea of life, Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! With all the hopes of future years, What Workman wrought thy ribs of steel, In spite of false lights on the shore, Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee,-are all with thee! THE EVENING STAR. Just above yon sandy bar, As the day grows fainter and dimmer, Lonely and lovely, a single star Lights the air with a dusky glimmer. Into the ocean faint and far Falls the trail of its golden splendour, Showed thus glorious and thus emulous, Leaving the arms of Callirrhoe, For ever tender, soft, and tremulous. Thus o'er the ocean faint and far Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly; Is it a god, or is it a star That, entranced, I gaze on nightly! THE SECRET OF THE SEA. AH! what pleasant visions haunt me All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me. Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, Such as gleam in ancient lore; And the singing of the sailors, And the answer from the shore! Most of all, the Spanish ballad Like the long waves on a sea-beach, Telling how the Count Arnaldos, "Wouldst thou,"- -so the helmsman answered, In each sail that skims the horizon, Hear those mournful melodies; Till my soul is full of longing And the heart of the great ocean TWILIGHT. THE twilight is sad and cloudy, But in the fisherman's cottage Close, close it is pressed to the window, Were looking into the darkness, And a woman's waving shadow Is passing two and fro, Now rising to the ceiling, Now bowing and bending low. What tale do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, bleak and wild, As they beat at the crazy casement, Tell to that little child? And why do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, wild and bleak, As they beat at the heart of the mother, Drive the colour from her cheek? SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT. SOUTHWARD with fleet of ice His lordly ships of ice Glistened in the sun; On each side, like pennons wide, His sails of white sea-mist But where he passed there were cast Eastward from Campobello Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed; Three days or more seaward he bore, Then, alas! the land-wind failed. Alas! the land-wind failed, And ice-cold grew the night; And never more, on sea or shore, Should Sir Humphrey see the light. He sat upon the deck, The Book was in his hand; "Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land!" In the first watch of the night, Out of the sea, mysteriously, The fleet of Death rose all around. The moon and the evening star Were hanging in the shrouds; Every mast, as it passed, Seemed to rake the passing clouds. |