With shroud and mast and pennon fair, That well had borne their part,— But the noblest thing that perished there Was that young, faithful heart.
FELICIA HEMANS.
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.
It was the schooner Hesperus That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm; His pipe was in his mouth; And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke, now west, now south.
Then up and spake an old sailor, Had sailed the Spanish main: "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.
"Last night the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the northeast; The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length.