Save when the wild lightning illumined in wrath,
A young mother knelt in the cabin below,
And pressing her babe to her bosom of snow,
She prayed to her God,[20] ’mid the hurricane wild,
“O Father, have mercy, look down on my child!”
It passed—the fierce whirlwind careered on its way,
And the ship like an arrow[25] divided the spray;
Her sails glimmered white in the beams of the moon,
And the wind up aloft seemed to whistle a tune—to whistle a tune.
There was joy[16] in the ship as she furrowed the foam,