Landon in The Literary Gazette 1827/White Ship
16
The Literary Gazette, 30th June 1827, page 429
ORIGINAL POETRY.
THE WHITE SHIP.
"Strike the sails again, and drop
Your anchor by the shore;
Our purple cup has yet to make
A few glad circles more.
Fair sister, seat thee by my side—
Another health to thee:
Yon sky shall lose its rival blush,
Ere we pass o'er the sea.
I call on thee, thou minstrel young,
To praise the ruby tide:"
Thus spoke the young Prince Henry,
And soon the song replied:—
SONG.
Deep, deep, drain the cup,
Or leave its wealth untasted—
Deep, deep, drain the cup,
Or its best gift is wasted.
Drink not of the purple wine
For a moment's gladness—
Flashing wit and careless laugh
Are but transient madness;—
There's sparkling light floats on the bowl,
There's flashing mirth within it:
But its deep forgetfulness
Is the best spell in it.
Drain the red wine till it be
Lethe to life's sorrow;
'Tis something to forget to-day
That there must come to-morrow.
Twas sad; for aye have lute and bard
Held prophecy of tone;
But, like the shadow of a bird,
Soon was the sadness flown.
And redder, redder grew the sky,
And redder grew the brine—
The lighter rose the laugh and song,
The gayer past the wine.
'Twas like a court of fairy land,
Held by the silver main—
The young prince, and his sister fair,
Their gay and gallant train.
The first star is upon the east,
The last upon the west,
And both are, but one tinge more pale,
Mirror'd on ocean's breast.
No cloud is on the face of heaven,
No ruffle on the deep,
And there is but such gentle wind
As o'er the lute might sweep.
The last wine-cup is drained, and now,
Fair ship, they crowd to thee.
Ah! these are but unsteady hands
To guide thee o'er the sea.
But still it was a gallant sight
To see her breast the tide;
The queen-like countess on the deck,
The royal youth beside:
And all was bright, as the White Ship
Cut through the sparkling spray;
Though still her shadow, omen like,
Dark on the waters lay.
One long, wild shriek—that hidden rock!
The ship has perished there:—
"Back with you all, out with the boat,
Save England's royal heir."
"Pause, on your lives!" Back sprung the prince
Upon the shattered deck:
"My sister!" Safely in his arms
He bore her from the wreck.
Cold, pale, the morning slowly broke;
Upheld upon the mast,
Two, only two, remained to tell
What in that night had past.
The one was master of that ship,
That fair ship nothing now—
O never more he'll set her sails,
Or guide her stately prow!
He thought but of his royal freight:
"Is he among the dead?"
"I saw," the other said, "the wave
Close o'er Prince Henry's head."
"And who shall to our native shore
The dismal tidings bear;
And tell the king he has no son,
The throne it has no heir?"
"Not I, not I, my noble prince,
At least I'll share thy grave:"
The master loosed his hold and plunged
Beneath the fated wave.
Wo was in merry England,
A deep and lasting wo—
A father wept above the sea,
His children slept below.L. E. L