 | Songs in the twilight |  |
100
THE SORROWFUL SEA.
There is a sorrow on the sounding sea,
A trouble ever heaving in its breast,
A wail as from a soul in agony,
An undertone of wild and sad unrest.
A trouble ever heaving in its breast,
A wail as from a soul in agony,
An undertone of wild and sad unrest.
The waves break mournfully upon the shore,
Or surge in fitful fury 'gainst the rock;
Anon retreat with melancholy roar,
Tortured and torn, and writhing from the shock.
Or surge in fitful fury 'gainst the rock;
Anon retreat with melancholy roar,
Tortured and torn, and writhing from the shock.
What hear we in that sorrowful sea-moan?
A dirge-like voice, a sound of hoarse farewells,
Despair that lurks in ev'ry hollow tone,
Sadder than requiem rung from funeral bells.
A dirge-like voice, a sound of hoarse farewells,
Despair that lurks in ev'ry hollow tone,
Sadder than requiem rung from funeral bells.
I catch the cry of storm-tossed men from far,
A shriek of wrecked ones thrilling 'cross the deep
Rising to God upward from star to star,
As cruel waters o'er the drowning sweep.
A shriek of wrecked ones thrilling 'cross the deep
Rising to God upward from star to star,
As cruel waters o'er the drowning sweep.
101
Courage and youth no pity have from thee,
Nor hope a spell to tame thy heartless might;
Prayer cannot charm thee, oh thou cruel sea!
Nor love o'ercome thee in the dreadful fight.
Nor hope a spell to tame thy heartless might;
Prayer cannot charm thee, oh thou cruel sea!
Nor love o'ercome thee in the dreadful fight.
When will thy waves in tranquil stillness lie?
The sorrow in thy heart for ever cease?
And the loud clash of tempests pass and die
Into the harmony of endless peace?
The sorrow in thy heart for ever cease?
And the loud clash of tempests pass and die
Into the harmony of endless peace?
The earth lies quiet like a child asleep:
The deep heart of the heaven is calm and still,
Must thou alone a restless vigil keep,
And with thy sobbing all the silence fill?
The deep heart of the heaven is calm and still,
Must thou alone a restless vigil keep,
And with thy sobbing all the silence fill?
The wail of sorrow rising from thy breast
Tells of a hidden and a nameless pain;
Will nothing soothe that anguish into rest,
So that it never, never wake again?
Tells of a hidden and a nameless pain;
Will nothing soothe that anguish into rest,
So that it never, never wake again?
O God, bring Thou the promised happy time
Which is to bless the ages yet to be;
Ring in with bells of heav'n's own sweetest chime
The golden year when “shall be no more sea.”
Which is to bless the ages yet to be;
Ring in with bells of heav'n's own sweetest chime
The golden year when “shall be no more sea.”
| Songs in the twilight | |