Numerous songs in honour of the lighthouse-maiden were written and sung, some of which we shall give in these pages. Among the rest was the following, which both Grace and her father highly esteemed, as it was from the pen of Wordsworth:—
"Among the dwellers in the silent fields
The natural heart was touched, and public way,
And crowded street, resound with ballad strains,
Inspired by one, whose very name bespeaks
Favour divine, exalting human love,
Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's coast,
Known but to few, but prized as far as known,
A single act endears to high and low
Through the whole land—to manhood, moved in spite
Of the world's freezing cares—to generous youth—
To infancy, that lisps her praise—and age,
Whose eye reflects it, glistering through a tear
Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame
Awaits her now; but, verily, good deeds
Do not imperishable record find
Save in the rolls of heaven, where her's may live,
A theme for angels, when they celebrate
The high-soul'd virtues which forgetful earth
Has witnessed. Oh! that winds and waves could speak
Of things which their united power call'd forth
From the pure depths of her humanity!
A maiden gentle, yet, at duty's call,
Firm and unflinching as the lighthouse reared.
On the island rock, her lonely dwelling place,
Or like the invincible rock itself that braves,
Age after age, the hostile elements,
As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.
"All night the storm had raged, nor ceased nor paused,
When, as day broke, the maid, through misty air,
Espies far off a wreck, amid the surf,
Beating on one of those disastrous isles.
Half of a vessel!—half—no more! The rest
Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there
Had for the common safety striven in vain,
Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick glance
Daughter and sire through optic glass discern,
Clinging about the remnant of this ship,
Creatures—how precious in the maiden's sight!
For whom, belike, the old man grieves still more
Than for their fellow-sufferers engulphed
Where every parting agony is hushed,
And hope and fear mix not in further strife.
'But courage, father! let us out to sea—
A few may yet be saved.' The daughter's words,
Her earnest tone and look, beaming with faith,
Dispel the father's doubts; nor do they lack
The noble-minded mother's helping hand
To launch the boat; and with her blessing cheer'd,
And inwardly sustained by silent prayer,
Together they put forth, father and child!
Each grasps an oar, and, struggling, on they go—
Rivals in effort; and, alike intent
Here to elude and there to surmount, they watch
The billows lengthening, mutually cross'd
And shattered, and regathering their might,
As if the wrath and troubles of the sea
Were by the Almighty's sufferance prolong'd
That woman's fortitude—so tried, so proved—
May brighten more and more!
"True to that mark,
They stem the current of that perilous gorge,
Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart,
Though danger, as the wreck is neared, becomes
More imminent. Nor unseen do they approach;
And rapture, with varieties of fear
Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frame
Of those who, in that dauntless energy,
Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturb'd
Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives
That of the pair—tossed on the waves to bring
Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, life—
One is a woman, a poor earthly sister;
Or, be the visitant other than she seems!
A guardian spirit sent from pitying heaven,
In woman's shape! But why prolong the tale,
Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts
Arm'd to repel them? Every hazard faced,
And difficulty mastered, with resolve
That no one breathing should be left to perish,
This last remainder of the crew were all
Placed in the little boat, then o'er the deep
Are safely borne, landed upon the beach,
And in fulfilment of God's mercy, lodged
Within the sheltering lighthouse. Shout, ye waves!
Pipe a glad song of triumph, ye fierce winds!
Ye screaming sea mews in the concert join!
And would that some immortal voice,
Fitly attuned to all that gratitude
Breathes out from flock or couch through pallid lips
Of the survivors, to the clouds might bear—
(Blended with praise of that parental love,
Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave,
Though young so wise, though meek so resolute)
Might carry to the clouds, and to the stars,
Yea, to celestial choirs, GRACE DARLING'S name."
By a less-known writer, but one who was evidently a keen admirer of Grace, the following lines were also written:—
"'Over the wave, the stormy wave,
Hasten, dear father, with me,
The crew to save from the wat'ry grave,
Deep in the merciless sea.
Hear ye the shriek, the piercing shriek,
Hear ye the cry of despair?
With courage quick the wreck we'll seek,
Danger united we'll dare.
"'Out with the boat, the gallant boat;
Not a moment to be lost.
See! she's afloat, proudly afloat,
And high on the waves we're tossed;
Mother, adieu, a short adieu;
Your prayers will rise to heaven.
Father, to you—your child and you—
Power to save is given.
"'I have no fear, no maiden fear;
My heart is firm to the deed,
I shed no tear, no coward tear;
I've strength in the time of need.
Heard ye the crash, the horrid crash?
Their mast over the side is gone;
Yet on we dash, 'mid lightning flash,
Safe, through the pelting storm.
"'The wreck we near, the wreck we near;
Our bonny boat seems to fly;
List to the cheer—their welcome cheer—
They know that succour is nigh.'
And on that night, that dreadful night,
The father and daughter brave,
With strengthened might they both unite,
And many dear lives they save.
"Hail to the maid, the fearless maid,
The maid of matchless worth,
She'll e'er abide the cherished pride
Of the land that gave her birth.
They send her gold, her name high uphold,
Honour and praise to impart;
But, with true regard, the loved reward
Is the joy of her own brave heart."