With oaken brace and copper band, trol Over the movement of the whole; And near it the anchor, whose giant hand Would reach down and grapple with the land, And immovable and fast Hold the great ship against the bellowing blast! And at the bows an image stood, Speeding along through the rain and the dark, Like a ghost in its snow-white sark, Each tall and tapering mast * Vessels are sometimes, though not usually, launched fully rigged. I have availed myself of the exception, as better suited to my purposes than the general rule; but the reader will see by the following extract of a letter from a friend in Portland, Maine, that it is neither a blunder nor a poetic licence. "In this State, and also, I am told, in New York, ships are sometimes rigged upon the stocks, in order to save time, or to make a show. There was a fine large ship launched last summer at Ellsworth, fully rigged and sparred. Some years ago a ship was launched here, with her rigging, spars, sails, and cargo aboard. She sailed the next day, and-was never heard of again! I hope this will not be the fate of your poem!" Long ago, In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, They fell, those lordly pines! Panting beneath the goad, Dragged down the weary, winding road To feel the stress and the strain Would remind them for evermore All is finished! and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, Slowly, in his splendours dight, The great sun rises to behold the sight. Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Up and down the sands of gold. His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. With her foot upon the sands, Round her like a veil descending, The bride of the gray, old sea. The service read, The joyous bridegroom bows his head; Down his own the tears begin to run. The shepherd of that wandering flock, Of the sailor's heart, All its pleasures and its griefs, course. Therefore he spake, and thus said he :--- The thrill of life along her keel, And lo! from the assembled crowd steer! The moistened eye, the trembling lip, Sail forth into the sea of life, Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! With all the hopes of future years, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, THE EVENING STAR. JUST above yon sandy bar, Lights the air with a dusky glimmer. Into the ocean faint and far Falls the trail of its golden splendour, And the gleam of that single star Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender. Chrysaor rising out of the sea, Showed thus glorious and thus emulous, Leaving the arms of Callirrhoe, For ever tender, soft, and tremulous. Thus o'er the ocean faint and far Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly; Is it a God, or is it a star, That, entranced, I gaze on nightly? THE SECRET OF THE SEA. AH! what pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, All my dreams come back to me. Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, Such as gleam in ancient lore; And the singing of the sailors, And the answer from the shore ! Most of all, the Spanish ballad Haunts me oft, and tarries long, Of the noble Count Arnaldos And the sailor's mystic song. Like the long waves on a sea-beach, Flow its unrhymed lyric lines ;— With his hawk upon his hand, Saw a fair and stately galley, Steering onward to the land;— How he heard the ancient helmsman Chant a song so wild and clear, That the sailing sea-bird slowly Poised upon the mast to hear, Till his soul was full of longing And he cried, with impulse strong,"Helmsman! for the love of heaven, Teach me, too, that wondrous song !” "Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered, "Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery!" THE twilight is sad and cloudy, Close, close it is pressed to the window, And a woman's waving shadow Now bowing and bending low. And the night-wind, bleak and wild, As they beat at the crazy casement, Tell to that little child? And why do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, wild and bleak, As they beat at the heart of the mother, Drive the colour from her cheek? SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT.* SOUTHWARD with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath. * "When the wind abated and the vessels were near enough, the Admiral was seen constantly sitting in the stern, with a book in his hand. On the 9th of September he was seen for the last time, and was heard by the people His lordly ships of ice Glistened in the sun; On each side like pennons wide His sails of white sea-mist Dripped with silver rain; But where he passed there were cast Leaden shadows o'er the main. Eastward from Campobello Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed; Three days or more seaward he bore, Then, alas! the land-wind failed. Alas! the land-wind failed, And ice-cold grew the night; And never more, on sea or shore, Should Sir Humphrey see the light. He sat upon the deck, The Book was in his hand; "Do not fear! Heaven is as near,' He said, "by water as by land !” In the first watch of the night, Without a signal's sound, Out of the sea, mysteriously, The fleet of Death rose all around. The moon and the evening star Were hanging in the shrouds ; Every mast, as it passed, Seemed to rake the passing clouds. They grappled with their prize, At midnight black and cold! As of a rock was the shock; Heavily the ground-swell rolled. Southward, through day and dark, They drift in close embrace, With mist and rain, to the Spanish Main; Yet there seems no change of place.. |