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109
CORALS ON THE “MAINE.”
The warrior ship had moored beneath the waves,
Its tangled depths were crowded thick with graves:
Each jewelled sword had bent a shattered knee
Before the rusting sabres of the sea.
Its tangled depths were crowded thick with graves:
Each jewelled sword had bent a shattered knee
Before the rusting sabres of the sea.
True patriots could not let their heroes lie
Without one glance of pity from the sky:
So delved among those caverns of despair,
And all the ghosts of ruin slumb'ring there.
Without one glance of pity from the sky:
So delved among those caverns of despair,
And all the ghosts of ruin slumb'ring there.
No gleaming triumph of the builder's toil,
But one demoniac moment served to spoil;
And hearts long loved and cherished night and day,
Were in a midnight tempest swept away.
But one demoniac moment served to spoil;
And hearts long loved and cherished night and day,
110
It was a lesson to our minds—alas!
That warning: how or when it comes to pass,
This world must heed the universal touch,
And fall in Ruin's ever-waiting clutch.
That warning: how or when it comes to pass,
This world must heed the universal touch,
And fall in Ruin's ever-waiting clutch.
But lo!—amid that sad and silent place,
Were tiny craftsmen of the coral race!
Those unobtrusive “toilers of the sea”—
Those builders of the islands yet to be.
Were tiny craftsmen of the coral race!
Those unobtrusive “toilers of the sea”—
Those builders of the islands yet to be.
With placid thrift, they plied their wizard-trade,
Close-clinging to the fragments War had made,
As if those had been summoned to their call:
They knew not that the wrecks were wrecks at all.
Close-clinging to the fragments War had made,
As if those had been summoned to their call:
They knew not that the wrecks were wrecks at all.
It was a lesson to our hearts!—with joy
We felt that Ruin is in God's employ;
And there are builders that we cannot see,
Erecting grander worlds for you and me.
We felt that Ruin is in God's employ;
And there are builders that we cannot see,
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It was a lesson to our souls!—above
The gloomy graves of those we loved and love,
The joys they sought, our martyred lads may know,
On spirit islands, fashioned long ago.
The gloomy graves of those we loved and love,
The joys they sought, our martyred lads may know,
On spirit islands, fashioned long ago.
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