The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
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. |
LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
III. |
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 | ||