 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
In the still old town
Where the minster towers
Toll the passing hours
To the chiming College Crown,
Sat the sister and her brother
In their quiet room,
Amid the gathering gloom
Of murky storm-girt weather;
She restless fingers twitching,
And he absorbed in sketching.
With a long, low wail
Moaned the fateful sea,
Foretelling woeful tale
Of wreck and misery
By and by to be:
And the fisher-women,
Gathering in bands,
With the cry of human
Anguish wrung their hands,
Gazing seaward ever
With a yearning and a shiver,
As they searched the wave and spray
For the boats that sailed away
At the dawning of the day.
Where the minster towers
Toll the passing hours
To the chiming College Crown,
Sat the sister and her brother
In their quiet room,
Amid the gathering gloom
Of murky storm-girt weather;
She restless fingers twitching,
And he absorbed in sketching.
With a long, low wail
Moaned the fateful sea,
Foretelling woeful tale
Of wreck and misery
By and by to be:
And the fisher-women,
Gathering in bands,
With the cry of human
Anguish wrung their hands,
Gazing seaward ever
With a yearning and a shiver,
As they searched the wave and spray
For the boats that sailed away
At the dawning of the day.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |