The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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MAWGAN OF MELHUACH. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
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MAWGAN OF MELHUACH.
'Twas a fierce night when old Mawgan died,
Men shuddered to hear the rolling tide:
The wreckers fled fast from the awful shore,
They had heard strange voices amid the roar.
Men shuddered to hear the rolling tide:
The wreckers fled fast from the awful shore,
They had heard strange voices amid the roar.
“Out with the boat there,” some one cried,—
“Will he never come? we shall lose the tide:
His berth is trim and his cabin stored,
He's a weary long time coming on board.”
“Will he never come? we shall lose the tide:
His berth is trim and his cabin stored,
He's a weary long time coming on board.”
The old man struggled upon the bed:
He knew the words that the voices said;
Wildly he shriek'd as his eyes grew dim,
“He was dead! he was dead! when I buried him.”
He knew the words that the voices said;
Wildly he shriek'd as his eyes grew dim,
“He was dead! he was dead! when I buried him.”
Hark yet again to the devilish roar!
“He was nimbler once with a ship on shore;
“Come! come! old man, 'tis a vain delay,
“We must make the offing by break of day.”
“He was nimbler once with a ship on shore;
“Come! come! old man, 'tis a vain delay,
“We must make the offing by break of day.”
Hard was the struggle, but at the last,
With a stormy pang old Mawgan pass'd,
And away, away, beneath their sight,
Gleam'd the red sail at pitch of night.
With a stormy pang old Mawgan pass'd,
And away, away, beneath their sight,
Gleam'd the red sail at pitch of night.
Gilbert Mawgan, a noted wrecker, lived in a hut that stood by the sea shore at Mellhuach, or The Vale of the Lark. Among other crimes it is said that he once buried the captain of a vessel, whom he found exhausted on the strand, alive! At the death of the old man, they told me that a vessel came up the Channel, made for Mellhuach bay and lay-to amid a tremendous surf. When Mawgan ceased to breathe she stood-out to sea and disappeared.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |