They rush into a yawning grave,
In strong recoil of mightiest wave,
Treading most awful path to save,
As they tread a homeward street.
Over the boulders 'mid foam they rush
Into the ghastly hollow;
They fling the rope to the breaking wreck;
The aim is sure, and it strikes the deck,
The shouts of quick hope follow.
Reached—not saved! there is more to do,