Poems by James Hyslop ... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. | LXXXI.
The Untombed Mariners.
|
| LXXXII. |
 | Poems by James Hyslop |  |
LXXXI.
The Untombed Mariners.
The waves rolled long and high
In the fathomless Biscay,
And the rising breeze swept sullen by,
And the day closed heavily.
In the fathomless Biscay,
And the rising breeze swept sullen by,
And the day closed heavily.
Our ship was tight and brave,
Well-trimm'd and sailing free,
And she flew along on the mountain wave,
An eagle of the sea.
Well-trimm'd and sailing free,
And she flew along on the mountain wave,
An eagle of the sea.
234
The red cross fluttering yet,
We lowered the noble sign,
For the bell had struck, it was past sunset,
And the moon began to shine.
We lowered the noble sign,
For the bell had struck, it was past sunset,
And the moon began to shine.
Her light was fitful, flung
From a sky of angry gloom,
Thick hurrying clouds o'er the waters hung,
Their hue was of the tomb.
From a sky of angry gloom,
Thick hurrying clouds o'er the waters hung,
Their hue was of the tomb.
Yet now and then a gleam
Broke through of her silent ray,
And lit around with her softened beam
Some spot of that plumbless bay.
Broke through of her silent ray,
And lit around with her softened beam
Some spot of that plumbless bay.
O'er the bulwark's side we heard
The proud ship break the spray,
While her shrouds and sheets, by the wild winds stirr'd,
Made music mournfully.
The proud ship break the spray,
While her shrouds and sheets, by the wild winds stirr'd,
Made music mournfully.
And we talked of battles past,
Of shipwreck, rock, and shore,
Of ports where peril or chance had cast
Our sail the wild world o'er.
Of shipwreck, rock, and shore,
Of ports where peril or chance had cast
Our sail the wild world o'er.
The watch looked by the lee,
A shapeless log was seen,
A helmless ship it appeared to be,
As it lay the waves between.
A shapeless log was seen,
A helmless ship it appeared to be,
As it lay the waves between.
Oh! 'twas a fearful sight
That helpless thing to see,
Swimming mastless and lone at high midnight,
A corpse on the black, black sea!
That helpless thing to see,
Swimming mastless and lone at high midnight,
A corpse on the black, black sea!
There were souls, perchance, on board,
And heaving yet their breath,
Men, whose cry amid their despair was heard
Not to meet ocean-death.
And heaving yet their breath,
Men, whose cry amid their despair was heard
Not to meet ocean-death.
Our chief on deck up sprung,
We lay to in that hollow deep—
Below, as our voices and trampling rung,
The sleepers sprang from sleep.
We lay to in that hollow deep—
Below, as our voices and trampling rung,
The sleepers sprang from sleep.
The boat we loosed and lower'd,
There were gallant hearts to go,
The dark clouds broke that the moon embower'd,
And her light shone cheering through.
There were gallant hearts to go,
The dark clouds broke that the moon embower'd,
And her light shone cheering through.
235
And we watch'd that little boat
Pull up the mountain wave,
Then sink from view, like a name forgot,
Within an ancient grave.
Pull up the mountain wave,
Then sink from view, like a name forgot,
Within an ancient grave.
They go—they climb the hull,
As the waters wash the deck,
They shout, and they hear but the billows dull
Strike on that lonely wreck.
As the waters wash the deck,
They shout, and they hear but the billows dull
Strike on that lonely wreck.
The skeletons of men
Lay blanch'd and marrowless there,
But clothed in their living garb as when
That 'reft ship was their care.
Lay blanch'd and marrowless there,
But clothed in their living garb as when
That 'reft ship was their care.
Lash'd to the planks they lay,
The ropes still round them tied,
Tho' drifted long leagues in that stormy bay
Since they hoped, despair'd, and died.
The ropes still round them tied,
Tho' drifted long leagues in that stormy bay
Since they hoped, despair'd, and died.
Tombless in their decay,
'Mid the watery solitude,
Days dawned upon them and faded away,
Cold moons their death-sleep view'd.
'Mid the watery solitude,
Days dawned upon them and faded away,
Cold moons their death-sleep view'd.
Their names no trace may tell,
Nor whither their passage bound,
And our seamen leave the desolate hull
With death or darkness round.
Nor whither their passage bound,
And our seamen leave the desolate hull
With death or darkness round.
They tread their deck again,
And silent hoist their boat—
They think of the fate of the unknown men
Who for years may wildly float.
And silent hoist their boat—
They think of the fate of the unknown men
Who for years may wildly float.
Those bones, that ocean bier,
They well may sadly see,
For they feel that the gallant ship they steer,
Their sepulchre may be.
They well may sadly see,
For they feel that the gallant ship they steer,
Their sepulchre may be.
There is grief for beauty's woe,
Laurels strew the hero's hearse—
Are there none will the generous tear bestow
For those untomb'd mariners!
Laurels strew the hero's hearse—
Are there none will the generous tear bestow
For those untomb'd mariners!
| Poems by James Hyslop | |