Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1832.pdf/2

From The Monthly Review, 1831, page 385

Prayer at Sea after Victory

'Through evening's bright repose
A voice of prayer arose,
    When the sea-fight was done;
The sons of England knelt,
With hearts that now could melt,

For, on the wave, her battle had been won.

'Round their tall ship, the main
Heaved with a dark red stain
    Caught not from sunset's cloud;
While with the tide swept past
Pennon and shivered mast,

Which to the Ocean-Queen that day had bowed.

'But free and fair on high,
A native of the sky,
    Her streamer met the breeze;
It flowed o'er fearless men,
Though hushed and child-like then,

Before their God they gathered on the seas.

'Oh I did not thought of home
O'er each bold spirit come,
    As from the land, sweet gales?
In every word of prayer,
Had not some hearth a share

Some bower inviolate 'midst England's vales?

'Yes! bright green spots that lay
In beauty far away,
    Hearing no billow's roar;
Safer from touch of spoil,
For that day's fiery toil,

Rose on high hearts, that now with love gush'd o'er.

'A solemn scene, and dread:
The victors and the dead—
    The breathless, burning sky!
And, passing with the race
Of waves that keep no trace,

The wild, brief signs of human victory!

'A stern, yet holy scene!
Billows, where strife hath been,
    Sinking to awful sleep;
And words that breathe the sense
Of God's omnipotence,

Making a minster of that silent deep!

'Borne through such hours afar,
Thy flag hath been a star
    Where eagle's wing ne'er flew;
England the unprofaned,
Thou of the homes unstained!

Oh! to the banner and the shrine be true!'

The Winter's Wreath, pp. 53, 54.