University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Poems by James Hyslop

... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns

collapse section 
 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. 
 LXXXII. 
LXXXII. Lines


236

LXXXII.
Lines

[_]

On a Naval Officer buried in the Atlantic.

There is in the wide, lone sea,
A spot unmark'd, but holy;
For there the gallant and the free
In his ocean-bed lies lowly.
Down, down within the deep,
That oft in triumph bore him,
He sleeps a sound and pleasant sleep,
With the salt waves washing o'er him.
He sleeps serene, and safe
From tempest and from billow,
Where the storms that high above him chafe,
Scarce rock his peaceful pillow.
The sea and him in death
They did not dare to sever;
It was his home while he had breath,
'Tis now his home for ever.
Sleep on, thou mighty dead!
A glorious tomb they've found thee;
The broad blue sky above thee spread,
The boundless waters round thee.
No vulgar foot treads here,
No hand profane shall move thee;
But gallant fleets shall proudly steer,
And warriors shout above thee.
And though no stone may tell
Thy name, thy worth, thy glory,
They rest in hearts that loved thee well,
And they grace thy country's story.
And when the last trump shall sound,
And tombs are asunder riven,
Like the morning sun, from the wave thou'lt bound,
To rise and shine in Heaven.