Page:Poems, Savage, 1882.djvu/36

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30 NATURE

Oh, pity the sailor's fate to-night ! For bitter and keen is the north wind's breath And the dun storm quenches the beacon Hght, Now false to its warning of wreck and death. As a frighted bird flees the hawk's career, The lost bark flies o'er the reeling wave : Their hearts stand still in their breasts for fear, And their eyes strain out on a gaping grave. A shivering shock, and a piercing yell ! A rush of waters, a sidelong heel ! The gun's dull boom her last farewell,— And the waves surge over her, deck and keel ! Oh, pity the sailor's fate to-night ! And pity the homes that wait in vain ! The pitiless sun, in the morrow's light, • Will laugh, as of old, with the waves again.

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