 | [Poems by Taylor in] Personal and political ballads |  |
1
PRAYER-MEETING IN A STORM.
A gale came up from the sou'-sou'-west;
'Twas fierce November weather:
But the ship had felt such a storm before,
And her planks still held together.
And thus though the howling tempest showed
No signs of diminution,
The passengers said: “We'll trust the ship,
The staunch old Constitution!”
'Twas fierce November weather:
But the ship had felt such a storm before,
And her planks still held together.
And thus though the howling tempest showed
No signs of diminution,
The passengers said: “We'll trust the ship,
The staunch old Constitution!”
The captain stood on the quarter-deck—
“The sons,” he said, “they batter us:
'Twas my watch below in the former gale—
I doubt if we'll weather Hatteras.
The wind on the one side blows me off,
The current sets me shoreward;
I'll just lay to between them both,
And seem to be going forward.”
“The sons,” he said, “they batter us:
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I doubt if we'll weather Hatteras.
The wind on the one side blows me off,
The current sets me shoreward;
I'll just lay to between them both,
And seem to be going forward.”
“Breakers ahead!” cried the watch on the bow,
“Hard up!” was the first mate's order;
“She feels the ground swell!” the passengers cried,
“And the seas already board her!”
The foresail split in the angry gust,
In the hold the ballast shifted;
And an old tar said: “If Jackson steered,
We shouldn't thus have drifted!”
“Hard up!” was the first mate's order;
“She feels the ground swell!” the passengers cried,
“And the seas already board her!”
The foresail split in the angry gust,
In the hold the ballast shifted;
And an old tar said: “If Jackson steered,
We shouldn't thus have drifted!”
But the captain cried: “Let go your helm!”
And then he called to the bo'swain:
“Pipe all hands to the quarter-deck,
And we'll save her by devotion!”
The first mate threw his trumpet down;
The old tars cursed together,
To see the good ship helpless roll
At the sport of wind and weather.
And then he called to the bo'swain:
“Pipe all hands to the quarter-deck,
And we'll save her by devotion!”
The first mate threw his trumpet down;
The old tars cursed together,
To see the good ship helpless roll
At the sport of wind and weather.
The tattered sails are all a-back,
Yards crack and masts are started;
And the captain weeps and says his prayers,
Till the hull be'midships parted:
But God is on the steersman's side—
The crew are in revolution;
The wave that washes the captain off
Will save the Constitution.
Yards crack and masts are started;
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Till the hull be'midships parted:
But God is on the steersman's side—
The crew are in revolution;
The wave that washes the captain off
Will save the Constitution.
New York, December 18, 1860.
105
SCOTT AND THE VETERAN.
I.
An old and crippled veteran to the War Department came,He sought the Chief who led him, on many a field of fame—
106
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes.
II.
“Have you forgotten, General,” the battered soldier cried,“The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was at your side?
Have you forgotten Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane?
'Tis true I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight again.”
III.
“Have I forgotten?” said the Chief; “my brave old soldier, No!And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so:
But you have done your share, my friend; you're crippled, old, and gray,
And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day.”
107
IV.
“But, General!” cried the veteran, a flush upon his brow;“The very men who fought with us, they say are traitors now:
They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old red, white, and blue,
And while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true.
V.
“I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good old gunTo get the range of traitors' hearts, and prick them one by one;
Your Minié rifles and such arms it a'nt worth while to try;
I couldn't get the hang of them, but I'll keep my powder dry!”
VI.
“God bless you, comrade!” said the Chief—“God bless your loyal heart!But younger men are in the field, and claim to have their part.
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And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to pull it down!”
VII.
“But, General!”—still persisting, the weeping veteran cried;“I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide:
And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that, at least, can I;
So, give the young ones place to fight, but me a place to die!
VIII.
“If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in commandPut me upon the rampart, with the flag-staff in my hand:
No odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the shells may fly,
I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them till I die!
109
IX.
“I'm ready, General, so you let a post to me be given,Where Washington can see me, as he looks from highest heaven,
And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, General Wayne,
‘There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane!’”
X.
“And when the fight is hottest, before the traitors fly,When shell and ball are screeching, and bursting in the sky,
If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my face,
My soul would go to Washington, and not to Arnold's place!”
May 13, 1861.
| [Poems by Taylor in] Personal and political ballads | |