 | Dryburgh Abbey and other poems |  |
73
THE HOME-BOUND BARK.
I
'Tis the winter deep!And the sea-fowl sweep
Afar o'er the gloomy tide;
And the wild waves dash,
'Neath the signal's flash,
Where the foamy tempests ride.
II
And dark and drear,On the seaman's ear,
Hang's the vulture's ravening cry;
Like the startling breath,
Of some fiend of death,
In wait for the souls that die.
III
The sails are rent—The stout mast's bent—
And the helm and bowsprit gone;
And fast and far,
'Midst the billowy war,
The foundering bark drives on.
74
IV
The shriek and prayer,And the wan despair,
Of hearts thus torn away,
Are seen and heard
By the ravening bird
In chase of his drowning prey.
V
Oh, many a sire,By the low red fire,
Will wake through this night of wo—
For those who sleep
'Neath the surges deep,
Ten thousand fathom low!—
VI
And many a maid,In the lonely glade,
For their absent love deplore;
And watch and wail
For the home-bound sail
No sun will see return!
VII
Mourn not for the dead,On their sandy bed,
Nor their last long sleep deplore;
But mourn for those,
In their home of woes,
Who weep for evermore!
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