 | Poetry for seamen |  |
20
CHILD IN A STORM.
The good ship o'er the ocean,
Glides on, where skies are bright,
And rolling waves right merrily
Propel her homeward flight;
But lo! the angry tempests
Rush from their prisoning cell,
The rocky coast frowns dark and dread,
The wintry surges swell.
Glides on, where skies are bright,
And rolling waves right merrily
Propel her homeward flight;
But lo! the angry tempests
Rush from their prisoning cell,
The rocky coast frowns dark and dread,
The wintry surges swell.
'T is night! Amid the breakers
The headlong vessel goes,
And shrieking, like a wounded man,
Strives with her vengeful foes;
Pale grows the boldest mariner,
For scarce the trumpet's cry
Is heard amid contending blasts,
Whose warfare shakes the sky.
The headlong vessel goes,
And shrieking, like a wounded man,
Strives with her vengeful foes;
21
For scarce the trumpet's cry
Is heard amid contending blasts,
Whose warfare shakes the sky.
How fearful is the tumult,
The cry, the wail, the prayer,
Wild mingling with the deafening storm
In echoes of despair:
But in the lowly cabin,
Rocked by the raging sea,
There calmly sat a beauteous boy,
Upon his mother's knee.
The cry, the wail, the prayer,
Wild mingling with the deafening storm
In echoes of despair:
But in the lowly cabin,
Rocked by the raging sea,
There calmly sat a beauteous boy,
Upon his mother's knee.
He sang a hymn of heaven,
Then spoke so sweetly mild,
“The Bible saith our Saviour dear
Doth love the little child;
It telleth of a happy home
Beyond the stormy sky;
Mother! He'll take us there to dwell,
We're not afraid to die.”
Then spoke so sweetly mild,
“The Bible saith our Saviour dear
Doth love the little child;
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Beyond the stormy sky;
Mother! He'll take us there to dwell,
We're not afraid to die.”
His smile was pure and peaceful
As the pearl beneath the deep,
When the booming battle thunders,
Across its bosom sweep;
Hoarse came the words of horror
From men of sinful life,
While innocence, with soul serene,
Beheld the appalling strife.
As the pearl beneath the deep,
When the booming battle thunders,
Across its bosom sweep;
Hoarse came the words of horror
From men of sinful life,
While innocence, with soul serene,
Beheld the appalling strife.
Morn! Morn!—The clouds are breaking,
The tempest's wrath is o'er,
The shattered bark moves heavily
To reach the welcome shore;
Hushed is the voice of thunder,
And quelled the lightning's flame,
For prayer had touched the gate of heaven,
And listening Mercy came.
The tempest's wrath is o'er,
The shattered bark moves heavily
To reach the welcome shore;
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And quelled the lightning's flame,
For prayer had touched the gate of heaven,
And listening Mercy came.
| Poetry for seamen | |