Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be!
For gentleness and love and trust Prevail o"er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of n.o.ble lives Something immortal still survives!
Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock, "Tis of the wave and not the rock; "Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest"s roar, In spite of false lights on the sh.o.r.e, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o"er our fears, Are all with thee,--are all with thee!
_Longfellow._
XC
THE DISCOVERER OF THE NORTH CAPE
Othere, the old sea-captain, Who dwelt in Helgoland, To King Alfred, the Lover of Truth, Brought a snow-white walrus-tooth, Which he held in his brown right hand.
His figure was tall and stately, Like a boy"s his eye appeared; His hair was yellow as hay, But threads of a silvery grey Gleamed in his tawny beard.
Hearty and hale was Othere, His cheek had the colour of oak; With a kind of laugh in his speech, Like the sea-tide on a beach, As unto the king he spoke.
And Alfred, King of the Saxons, Had a book upon his knees, And wrote down the wondrous tale Of him who was first to sail Into the Arctic seas.
"So far I live to the northward, No man lives north of me; To the east are wild mountain-chains, And beyond them meres and plains; To the westward all is sea.
So far I live to the northward, From the harbour of Skeringes-hale, If you only sailed by day With a fair wind all the way, More than a month would you sail.
I own six hundred reindeer, With sheep and swine beside; I have tribute from the Finns, Whalebone and reindeer-skins, And ropes of walrus-hide.
I ploughed the land with horses, But my heart was ill at ease, For the old seafaring men Came to me now and then, With their sagas of the seas;--
Of Iceland and of Greenland, And the stormy Hebrides, And the undiscovered deep;-- I could not eat nor sleep For thinking of those seas.
To the northward stretched the desert, How far I fain would know; So at last I sallied forth, And three days sailed due north, As far as the whale-ships go.
To the west of me was the ocean, To the right the desolate sh.o.r.e, But I did not slacken sail For the walrus or the whale, Till after three days more.
The days grew longer and longer, Till they became as one, And southward through the haze I saw the sullen blaze Of the red midnight sun.
And then uprose before me, Upon the water"s edge, The huge and haggard shape Of that unknown North Cape, Whose form is like a wedge.
The sea was rough and stormy, The tempest howled and wailed, And the sea-fog, like a ghost, Haunted that dreary coast, But onward still I sailed.
Four days I steered to eastward, Four days without a night: Round in a fiery ring Went the great sun, O King, With red and lurid light."
Here Alfred, King of the Saxons, Ceased writing for a while; And raised his eyes from his book, With a strange and puzzled look, And an incredulous smile.
But Othere, the old sea-captain, He neither paused nor stirred, Till the King listened, and then Once more took up his pen, And wrote down every word.
"And now the land," said Othere, "Bent southward suddenly, And I followed the curving sh.o.r.e, And ever southward bore Into a nameless sea.
And there we hunted the walrus, The narwhale, and the seal; Ha! "twas a n.o.ble game!
And like the lightning"s flame Flew our harpoons of steel.
There were six of us all together, Nors.e.m.e.n of Helgoland; In two days and no more We killed of them threescore, And dragged them to the strand."
Here Alfred, the Truth-Teller, Suddenly closed his book, And lifted his blue eyes, With doubt and strange surmise Depicted in their look.
And Othere, the old sea-captain, Stared at him wild and weird, Then smiled till his shining teeth Gleamed white from underneath His tawny, quivering beard.
And to the King of the Saxons, In witness of the truth, Raising his n.o.ble head, He stretched his brown hand, and said, "Behold this walrus-tooth!"
_Longfellow._
XCI
THE c.u.mBERLAND
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, On board of the c.u.mberland, sloop of war; And at times from the fortress across the bay The alarum of drums swept past, Or a bugle blast From the camp on the sh.o.r.e.
Then far away to the south uprose A little feather of snow-white smoke, And we knew that the iron ship of our foes Was steadily steering its course To try the force Of our ribs of oak.
Down upon us heavily runs, Silent and sullen, the floating fort; Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns, And leaps the terrible death, With fiery breath, From each open port.
We are not idle, but send her straight Defiance back in a full broadside!
As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, Rebounds our heavier hail From each iron scale Of the monster"s hide.
"Strike your flag!" the rebel cries, In his arrogant old plantation strain "Never!" our gallant Morris replies; "It is better to sink than to yield!"
And the whole air pealed With the cheers of our men.
Then, like a kraken huge and black, She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp!
Down went the c.u.mberland all a wreck, With a sudden shudder of death, And the cannon"s breath For her dying gasp.
Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay, Still floated our flag at the mainmast head.
Lord, how beautiful was thy day!
Every waft of the air Was a whisper of prayer, Or a dirge for the dead.
Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas, Ye are at peace in the troubled stream!
Ho! brave land! with hearts like these, Thy flag that is rent in twain Shall be one again, And without a seam!