« PreviousContinue »
SLEET! and Hail ! and Thunder! And
Winds that rave, Till the sands thereunder
Tinge the sullen wave
Winds, that like a Demon,
Howl with horrid note Round the toiling Seaman,
In his tossing boat
From his humble dwelling,
On the shingly shore, Where the billows swelling,
Keep such hollow roar
From that weeping Woman,
Seeking with her cries,
From the Urchin pining
For his Father's kneeFrom the lattice shining,
Drive him out to sea!
Let broad leagues dissever
Him from yonder foam ;Oh, God! to think Man ever
Comes too near his Home!
THE DEATH - BED.
We watch'd her breathing thro' the night,
Her breathing soft and low,
Kept heaving to and fro.
So silently we seem'd to speak,
So slowly mov'd about,
To eke her living out.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied-
And sleeping when she died.
For when the morn came dim and sad,
And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids clos'd-she had
Another morn than ours.