To rouse his myrmidons afar, In their dark, viewless caves! The ruffian winds wage instant war Now from his golden dream of joy, No human succour nigh,. Awakes the hapless sailor boy, To sad reality! No fostering father's arms to guard, No mother's breast to warm But drench'd with cold, he mounts the yard, And braves the deafening storm. Oh! mother in thy midnight prayer, (He cries) remember me ! E'en now, midst horror and despair, I supplicate for thee. Almighty power! who ruls't the deep, Guard her! oh! may she soundly sleep, And if it please thee, now to take Grant, Lord! for the Redeemer's sake, Behold her now, in piteous plight, And she a miserable sight Before the wild winds borne. Her tall mast, towering to the skies, Now (shivered by the lightening) lies A wreck against her side. Now headlong down the gulf impell'd, (A grave awaits her there) Now to the pitchy skies upheld, She vaults aloft in air Long, long she labour'd on the deep, Bereft of every sail; But now all hands in silence sleep, She's founder'd in the gale. HERMIONE. |