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A SEA LYRIC.
In Three Parts.
[_]
The first part, except the seventh and ninth stanzas, was rhymed on board the “Manchester” steam-ship in the bight of the Bay of Biscay, November, 1836, when the storm was rising, but before the sense of danger was thoroughly roused by its violence and the damage to both engines. The rest was written at Canterbury, April 23, 1838, from memory.
PART I.
I
I've stood a gale before now;And do I shrink at last,
Where wind and wave but roar now
Their old accustom'd blast?
II
Ye gusts and seas of Biscay,And thou Atlantic main,
Ye oft have served me this way
When I have steer'd for Spain.
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III
Old friends expect, at meeting,A welcome fair or foul;
You give a churlish greeting—
A bluster and a growl!
IV
Yet all your rant and railing,Till now, I ever heard
With spirit as unquailing
As any ocean-bird:
V
The Gull, of constant pinion,The Willock, sleek of form,
Your little fearless minion
The Petrel of the Storm;
VI
Or any winged skimmersThat ride the leaping foam,
Or e'en the deeper swimmers
Beneath the tides at home.
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VII
But now, appall'd, I hear ye,Ye stunning voices wild!
Ye winds and waves, I fear ye—
I tremble for my child.
VIII
Bold wave, thy salt lip kissesA cheek whose rose it frets;
Shrewd wind, thy sharp tongue hisses
In ears unused to threats!
IX
Be hush'd, thou angry giant,And sleek thy bristling hair;
O sea, for once compliant,
O hear a Father's prayer!
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PART II.
I
“Ha, ha! the Wanderer's DaughterIs mine!” the Demon said;
The Demon of the water,
With horrent laughter dread.
II
“Blow, blow, ye merry Tritons,Blow, blow with all your might,
And call the cloud that lightens,
For dark will be the night!
III
“On yon Iberian breakersThis vapour-ship must strike,
That ploughs the ocean's acres
As free as Thames's dyke.
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IV
“But first, stout billows shackleThe power that rules her keel;
Fair play to sheet and tackle,
But down with work and wheel!”
V
The surge obey'd its warrant,And wheel and engine crash'd;
A hulk on Biscay's current,
The steam-bark landward dash'd.
VI
And nought can helm avail herTo keep her head to sea;
All evil blasts assail her,
And force her to the lee.
VII
And still she sinks and rises,And pants along at speed;
Ten minutes bring the crisis—
God help her in her need!
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VIII
And by the light of lightning,To those on deck who stand,
The breakers dimly whitening,
Seem to beckon from the land.
IX
“A sail, a sail to wear her,Or she her last has cruised!”
And twice they tried to wear her,
And twice the ship refused.
PART III.
I
The Father sought his Daughter,And drew her from her berth,
And in his arms he caught her,
And held her in that girth.
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II
And, in her eyeballs gazing,He whisper'd all the truth;
O God! the doom amazing,
It shook her heart of youth.
III
Her lips were white with wonder,She sank on trembling knees;
Her prayer, through ocean's thunder,
Christ heard, who walk'd the seas.
IV
Again was rigg'd the canvas,—That effort seem'd despair's;
How sweet the voice of man was,
That cried “She wears! she wears!”
V
A counter-breeze from Finisterre,Of God's own under-breath,
Was now the blessed minister
Of rescue from the death!
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VI
Away the crippled vesselWent limping from the coast,
With many a wave to wrestle,
And little strength to boast.
VII
And when the sun was risen,And show'd the waste profound,
It seem'd again a prison
Of mountains quaking round!
VIII
But when did Christ deliverWith vacillating hand?
We gain'd the Golden River,
And touch'd the Lisbon strand!
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