 | Songs of a Stranger |  |
119
THE WANDERERS IN THE POLAR SEA .
The moon is high, with every star,
And a sky of deepest blue,—
The dazzling wildfire shoots afar
Its sparks of varied hue,
And darts, like a gilded snake, along
The vivid and glittering clouds among.
Not a wave but glows with the magic light,
And reflects on its bosom another night—
A night of radiant majesty,
The daughter of the polar sky.
And a sky of deepest blue,—
The dazzling wildfire shoots afar
Its sparks of varied hue,
And darts, like a gilded snake, along
The vivid and glittering clouds among.
Not a wave but glows with the magic light,
And reflects on its bosom another night—
A night of radiant majesty,
The daughter of the polar sky.
'Midst boundless plains of ice we lie,
In the regions of endless frost,
Over flattering hope's decay to sigh—
Over hopes and wishes crost!
In the regions of endless frost,
Over flattering hope's decay to sigh—
Over hopes and wishes crost!
120
'Tis morn!—the vapours slowly glide,
And spread their wings on every side;
Their breath on all around they throw,
And icy spires and columns grow:
Swiftly the wreathing lines extend,
And from every cord the sprays depend.
When the sparkling sun leads on the day,
And melts those veils of mist away,
Still, in clinging fondness, lingers
The glittering work of their fairy fingers,
And our storm-beat vessel we behold
Spangled and strew'd with gems and gold,
That gleam and vanish one by one,
Till all—like our hopes and joys—are gone!
We gaze once more on the dreary way
That frowns before us each rising day,
And shudder—chill'd in soul—to know
We sail alone through this realm of snow!—
That not a sound can wake the air
But the groan of the coming storm,
Or the sullen growl of the startled bear
As he rears his grisly form
From the icy throne, where, in wait for prey,
Like the demon of the clime he lay.
And spread their wings on every side;
Their breath on all around they throw,
And icy spires and columns grow:
Swiftly the wreathing lines extend,
And from every cord the sprays depend.
When the sparkling sun leads on the day,
And melts those veils of mist away,
Still, in clinging fondness, lingers
The glittering work of their fairy fingers,
And our storm-beat vessel we behold
Spangled and strew'd with gems and gold,
That gleam and vanish one by one,
Till all—like our hopes and joys—are gone!
We gaze once more on the dreary way
That frowns before us each rising day,
And shudder—chill'd in soul—to know
We sail alone through this realm of snow!—
That not a sound can wake the air
But the groan of the coming storm,
Or the sullen growl of the startled bear
As he rears his grisly form
From the icy throne, where, in wait for prey,
Like the demon of the clime he lay.
121
Our anchors are whelm'd in the angry tide,
Our masts the storm has riven,—
We wander on, without help or guide,
By winds and waters driven;
And every gust that hurries by
Sounds like a spirit's warning cry,
That tells us our latest hope is o'er,
And we may return to our homes no more!
Our masts the storm has riven,—
We wander on, without help or guide,
By winds and waters driven;
And every gust that hurries by
Sounds like a spirit's warning cry,
That tells us our latest hope is o'er,
And we may return to our homes no more!
Honour and Fame! is this the end
Your visions taught my mind,
When I left each tender, weeping friend,
And every tie behind?
Though icy deserts and storms be past,
Must we perish 'midst ice and storms at last!
Your visions taught my mind,
When I left each tender, weeping friend,
And every tie behind?
Though icy deserts and storms be past,
Must we perish 'midst ice and storms at last!
Ha! the rapid current drives
Our vessel on its course!
Powerless—all in vain—she strives
To battle with its force.
Hark! the deaf'ning surges roar,
And the eddy whirls us on
To that sad and gloomy shore
Where worldly toils are done—
Where the hospitable deep
Will yield us rest and dreamless sleep!
Our vessel on its course!
Powerless—all in vain—she strives
To battle with its force.
Hark! the deaf'ning surges roar,
And the eddy whirls us on
To that sad and gloomy shore
Where worldly toils are done—
122
Will yield us rest and dreamless sleep!
Dash'd along from rock to rock,
Trembling to the deadly shock—
Every element our foe—
Nerveless and desolate,
Through clouds of boiling foam we go,
Abandoned to our fate! [OMITTED] [OMITTED]
Trembling to the deadly shock—
Every element our foe—
Nerveless and desolate,
Through clouds of boiling foam we go,
Abandoned to our fate! [OMITTED] [OMITTED]
No!—we are saved!
Behold where, cloth'd in light,
The broad Atlantic spreads before our sight!—
Escaped the shoals yon treacherous billows hide,
Safe on her breast our shattered bark may ride:
Hail, glorious Ocean! to thy arms we come—
Oh bear thy wanderers to their southern home!
The broad Atlantic spreads before our sight!—
Escaped the shoals yon treacherous billows hide,
Safe on her breast our shattered bark may ride:
Hail, glorious Ocean! to thy arms we come—
Oh bear thy wanderers to their southern home!
| Songs of a Stranger | |