 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
196
THE FIRE SHIP
It was a dream, and yet it seemed
As our waking visions are,
We were out upon a broad old sea,
And a joyous crew we were,
The moonlight slept on the reeling deck,
And the breeze in the sails was fair.
As our waking visions are,
We were out upon a broad old sea,
And a joyous crew we were,
The moonlight slept on the reeling deck,
And the breeze in the sails was fair.
A cloud came up where the sky bent down
For the kiss of the silver wave,
And the stars were veiled, and the breeze was chained
To its shadowy ocean cave,
And the moon went out, and the sea grew calm
With a slumber like the grave.
For the kiss of the silver wave,
And the stars were veiled, and the breeze was chained
To its shadowy ocean cave,
And the moon went out, and the sea grew calm
With a slumber like the grave.
Our ship stood still on its ocean way,
There was neither breeze nor tide,
And black as death the waters lay
Around on either side;
And the stalwart crew grew stern and still,
For the boldest heart was tried.
There was neither breeze nor tide,
And black as death the waters lay
Around on either side;
And the stalwart crew grew stern and still,
For the boldest heart was tried.
Anon we heard a rushing sound,
Like a tempest's coming on,
And up through the thick and murky air
A sudden meteor shone.
We gazed upon it and turned away,
And again—but it was not gone.
Like a tempest's coming on,
And up through the thick and murky air
A sudden meteor shone.
We gazed upon it and turned away,
And again—but it was not gone.
On—on it came like a living thing,
And the storm-tried seamen shook,
And the proudest eye grew dim with fear
At the awful shape it took,
Like a ship of flame to us it seemed
And yet we could but look.
And the storm-tried seamen shook,
And the proudest eye grew dim with fear
At the awful shape it took,
Like a ship of flame to us it seemed
And yet we could but look.
A ship of flame, with its fierce red sail,
And its mast of tapering fire,
And a tall form stood on its blazing deck,
Like a slave at his funeral pyre!
Nearer and nearer came the ship,
And the mast of flame rose higher.
And its mast of tapering fire,
And a tall form stood on its blazing deck,
Like a slave at his funeral pyre!
Nearer and nearer came the ship,
And the mast of flame rose higher.
197
Nearer and nearer came the ship,
With its fearful tenant there!
The flame like a robe was round him thrown,
And his blackened arm was bare;
But his lip was curled, and his brow was bent
With the sternness of despair.
With its fearful tenant there!
The flame like a robe was round him thrown,
And his blackened arm was bare;
But his lip was curled, and his brow was bent
With the sternness of despair.
On—on with the flame of mast and sail
The spectre ship drew nigh;
A strange heat burned on every cheek
As its flaming keel went by!
And we saw its fiend-like mariner,
But he uttered forth no cry.
The spectre ship drew nigh;
A strange heat burned on every cheek
As its flaming keel went by!
And we saw its fiend-like mariner,
But he uttered forth no cry.
He stood with his crown of living flame,
Like a glory and a curse—
He looked like a stern and suffering one,
Who could not dream of worse—
And he turned his fierce and blood-red eye
Like a comet's orb on us.
Like a glory and a curse—
He looked like a stern and suffering one,
Who could not dream of worse—
And he turned his fierce and blood-red eye
Like a comet's orb on us.
We shrunk from its strange, unearthly glare,
And the spectre saw it then—
He turned his face, and we saw the trace
Where a mournful thought had been,
For he knew that he might no more commune
With the forms of living men.
And the spectre saw it then—
He turned his face, and we saw the trace
Where a mournful thought had been,
For he knew that he might no more commune
With the forms of living men.
With blazing shroud through the murky cloud
That veiled the sea so dim
They passed away—they might not stay
That spectre bark, and him,
Who sternly stood in the wreathing flame,
Like the fallen Cherubim.
That veiled the sea so dim
They passed away—they might not stay
That spectre bark, and him,
Who sternly stood in the wreathing flame,
Like the fallen Cherubim.
They passed away—the cloud rolled on—
The stars shone out above—
The moon looked down on the wave again,
Like a quiet thing of love;
And the breeze sang merrily through the sails,
And the ship began to move.
The stars shone out above—
The moon looked down on the wave again,
Like a quiet thing of love;
And the breeze sang merrily through the sails,
And the ship began to move.
198
I woke from sleep—and yet it seems
As our waking visions are—
My heart hath dreams of that spectre ship,
And its mariner's calm despair,
For the graving hand of memory leaves
Its legible horror there.
As our waking visions are—
My heart hath dreams of that spectre ship,
And its mariner's calm despair,
For the graving hand of memory leaves
Its legible horror there.
Haverhill Gazette, March 14, 1829
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |