The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber | ||
331
EPITAPH ON A YOUNG NAVAL OFFICER,
DESIGNED FOR A TOMB IN A SEAPORT TOWN IN NORTH WALES.
Sailor! if vigour nerve thy frame,
If to high deeds thy soul is strung,
Revere this stone that gives to fame
The brave, the virtuous, and the young!—
If to high deeds thy soul is strung,
Revere this stone that gives to fame
The brave, the virtuous, and the young!—
Captain Conway Shipley, third son to the dean of St. Asaph, perished in an attempt to cut out an enemy's vessel from the Tagus with the boats of his Majesty's frigate La Nymphe, April 22,1808, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, and after nearly sixteen years of active service; distinguished by every quality both of heart and head which could adorn a man or an officer. Admiral Sir Charles Cotton, and the captains of his fleet, have since erected a monument to his memory in the neighbourhood of Fort St. Julian.
For manly beauty deck'd his form,
His bright eye beam'd with mental power;
Resistless as the winter storm,
Yet mild as summer's mildest shower.—
His bright eye beam'd with mental power;
Resistless as the winter storm,
Yet mild as summer's mildest shower.—
In war's hoarse rage, in ocean's strife,
For skill, for force, for mercy known;
Still prompt to shield a comrade's life,
And greatly careless of his own.—
For skill, for force, for mercy known;
Still prompt to shield a comrade's life,
And greatly careless of his own.—
332
Yet, youthful seaman, mourn not thou
The fate these artless lines recall:
No, Cambrian! no, be thine the vow,
Like him to live, like him to fall !—
The fate these artless lines recall:
No, Cambrian! no, be thine the vow,
Like him to live, like him to fall !—
But hast thou known a father's care,
Who sorrowing sent thee forth to sea;
Pour'd for thy weal th' unceasing prayer,
And thought the sleepless night on thee ?—
Who sorrowing sent thee forth to sea;
Pour'd for thy weal th' unceasing prayer,
And thought the sleepless night on thee ?—
Has e'er thy tender fancy flown,
When winds were strong and waves were high,
Where listening to the tempest's moan,
Thy sisters heav'd the anxious sigh?
When winds were strong and waves were high,
Where listening to the tempest's moan,
Thy sisters heav'd the anxious sigh?
Or in the darkest hour of dread,
'Mid war's wild din, and ocean's swell,
Hast mourn'd a hero brother dead,
And did that brother love thee well ?—
'Mid war's wild din, and ocean's swell,
Hast mourn'd a hero brother dead,
And did that brother love thee well ?—
Then pity those whose sorrows flow
In vain o'er Shipley's empty grave !—
—Sailor, thou weep'st :—indulge thy woe;
Such tears will not disgrace the brave !—
In vain o'er Shipley's empty grave !—
—Sailor, thou weep'st :—indulge thy woe;
Such tears will not disgrace the brave !—
The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber | ||