 | English Roses |  |
DEATH AT THE HELM.
The mad storm raved, the sturdy ship
Went staggering on her way,
And though she felt their cruel grip
She kept the winds at bay.
Like hungry hounds the wild waves broke
Before they even came nigh;
And, in a blinding blur of smoke,
Up sprang the spray on high.
But blasted by the lightning's bolt,
With course that never veered
And through a strife like hell's revolt,
The stark cold pilot steered.
Went staggering on her way,
And though she felt their cruel grip
She kept the winds at bay.
Like hungry hounds the wild waves broke
Before they even came nigh;
And, in a blinding blur of smoke,
Up sprang the spray on high.
But blasted by the lightning's bolt,
With course that never veered
And through a strife like hell's revolt,
The stark cold pilot steered.
The mist dropped down, no beacon mark
Gleamed forth with friendly sign;
While closer settled down the dark,
Incumbent and malign.
From night to deeper night she sped
Within the rayless gloom,
Dying and captured by the dead
To her pre-destined doom.
Unshaken by a thousand shocks
And with the battle cheered,
She drove stem-foremost to the rocks,
And still the helmsman steered.
Gleamed forth with friendly sign;
While closer settled down the dark,
Incumbent and malign.
From night to deeper night she sped
Within the rayless gloom,
Dying and captured by the dead
To her pre-destined doom.
Unshaken by a thousand shocks
And with the battle cheered,
She drove stem-foremost to the rocks,
And still the helmsman steered.
| English Roses | |