The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
 | II. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| 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. |
| III. |
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| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
289
VII. THE PILOT'S WIFE
“The moon shines out with here and there a star,
But furious cloud-ranks storm both stars and moon:
The mad sea drums upon the harbour-bar;
Will the tide slacken soon?
O Sea that took'st my youngest, wilt thou spare?”
—And the Sea answered through the black night-air,
“I took thy youngest. Shall I spare to-night?”
But furious cloud-ranks storm both stars and moon:
The mad sea drums upon the harbour-bar;
Will the tide slacken soon?
O Sea that took'st my youngest, wilt thou spare?”
—And the Sea answered through the black night-air,
“I took thy youngest. Shall I spare to-night?”
“The thundering breakers sweep and slash the sands;
To westward lo! one line of cream-white foam:
I raise to darkling heaven my helpless hands;
I watch within the home.
O Sea that took'st my eldest, wilt thou save?”
—And the Sea answered as from out a grave,
“I slew thine eldest son for my delight.”
To westward lo! one line of cream-white foam:
I raise to darkling heaven my helpless hands;
I watch within the home.
O Sea that took'st my eldest, wilt thou save?”
—And the Sea answered as from out a grave,
“I slew thine eldest son for my delight.”
290
“The giant waves plunge o'er the shingly beach;
The tawny-maned great lions of the sea
With pitiless roar howl down all human speech;
Is God far-off from me?
O Sea that slewest my sons, mine husband spare!”
—The Sea's wild laughter shook and rent the air:
Lo! on the beach a drowned face deadly white.
The tawny-maned great lions of the sea
With pitiless roar howl down all human speech;
Is God far-off from me?
O Sea that slewest my sons, mine husband spare!”
—The Sea's wild laughter shook and rent the air:
Lo! on the beach a drowned face deadly white.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |