SOUL FERRY
Hark! there comes a sudden knocking, and the fisher starts from sleep,
As a hollow voice and ghostly bids him once more seek the deep;
Wearily across his shoulder flingeth he the ashen oar,
And upon the beach descending finds a skiff beside the shore.
As a hollow voice and ghostly bids him once more seek the deep;
Wearily across his shoulder flingeth he the ashen oar,
And upon the beach descending finds a skiff beside the shore.
’Tis not his, but he must enter rocking on the waters dim,
Awful in their hidden presence, who are they that wait for him?
Who are they that sit so silent, as he pulleth from the land—
Nothing heard save rumbling rowlock, wave soft-breaking on the sand?
Awful in their hidden presence, who are they that wait for him?
Who are they that sit so silent, as he pulleth from the land—
Nothing heard save rumbling rowlock, wave soft-breaking on the sand?
Chill adown the tossing channel blows the wailing, wand’ring breeze,
Lonely in the murky midnight, mutt’ring mournful memories,—
Summer lands where once it brooded, wrecks that widows’ hearts have wrung—
Swift the dreary boat flies onwards, spray, like rain, around it flung.
Lonely in the murky midnight, mutt’ring mournful memories,—
Summer lands where once it brooded, wrecks that widows’ hearts have wrung—
Swift the dreary boat flies onwards, spray, like rain, around it flung.
On a pebbled strand it grateth, ghastly cliffs around it loom,
Thin and melancholy voices faintly murmur through the gloom;
Thin and melancholy voices faintly murmur through the gloom;
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