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Art and Fashion

With other sketches, songs and poems. By Charles Swain
  
  

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 I. 
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WIFE OF THE PIRATE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


312

WIFE OF THE PIRATE.

'Gainst the rocky ribs of the rolling sea,
The foundering vessel wore,
And many a heart in agony
Grew cold and palsied o'er,
As rush'd the fate, which none might flee,
Athwart that stormy shore!
Still many a distant beacon threw
Its friendly light in vain,
And youthful eyes, to sorrow new,
Gazed on in hopeless pain,
As wild the foamy billows flew
Along that dreadful main!
Yet not more loving heart than thine,
Joanna, sought that strand!
Thy beacon, like affection's shrine,
Shed brightness o'er the land,
But none might light that stormy brine
Save Heaven's almighty hand!

313

Slow fled the weary hours of night,
As they would never go;
'Till pale upon the topmost height
Morn show'd her face of woe,
As though she wept the bitter sight
Of aching hearts below!
Still Oscar came not—still no sail
The distant waves display;
But fast the morn grew calm and pale,
The winds lull'd with the day,
'Till the last murmur of the gale
Died slow and sad away!
At length a lorn and shatter'd barque
The night breeze swept ashore;
'Twas marvel how, amidst the dark,
Without or mast or oar,
It found the Pirate's rocky ark,
Or saved the crew it bore!
Joanna rush'd—she gain'd the place
Where they the storm-boat cast—
She rush'd to clasp in fond embrace
Her loved—her lord—at last!
And wild she gazed upon each face,
'Till every hope had past!

314

Oh, Oscar! Oscar! where was he?
A prisoner!—and alone!
And they could leave him, thus to be
In Wolfe's stern dungeon thrown!
She heard—a shriek was on the sea
Far wilder than its own!