 | New poems |  |
203
THE LAST OF THE WRECK.
Must I perish?—must I perish?
I must perish,—here,—alone!
A dying brother's voice I hear no more,
'Mid the dark, wild water's swell and roar;
While the wreck's lone bell,
Shaken by the wave,
Sounds the knell
O'er this ocean grave!
I must perish,—here,—alone!
A dying brother's voice I hear no more,
'Mid the dark, wild water's swell and roar;
While the wreck's lone bell,
Shaken by the wave,
Sounds the knell
O'er this ocean grave!
O God! my spirit I commend to thee,
Through Him who conquered Death for me.
Earth is past,—time hath fled!
Eternity, thy verge I tread!
Friends beloved, farewell!
We yet shall meet,—
We shall meet when earth and sea
Must render up their dead.
Through Him who conquered Death for me.
Earth is past,—time hath fled!
Eternity, thy verge I tread!
Friends beloved, farewell!
We yet shall meet,—
We shall meet when earth and sea
Must render up their dead.
| New poems | |