 | Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson] |  |
28
THE BUOY-BELL.
How like the leper, with his own sad cryEnforcing his own solitude, it tolls!
That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals,
To warn us from the place of jeopardy!
O friend of man! sore-vext by ocean's power,
The changing tides wash o'er thee day by day;
Thy trembling mouth is filled with bitter spray,
Yet still thou ringest on from hour to hour;
High is thy mission, though thy lot is wild—
To be in danger's realm a guardian sound;
In seamen's dreams a pleasant part to bear,
And earn their blessing as the year goes round;
And strike the key-note of each grateful prayer,
Breathed in their distant homes by wife or child!
| Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson] | |