Poems (Baldwyn)/The Wreck

by Augusta Baldwyn

For works with similar titles, see The Wreck.

THE WRECK.

(Written at the age of 12 years.)

The sun shone on the summer sea,
 No cloud was in the azure sky,
The morning breeze was warm and free,
 Yet scarce was heard its gentle sigh.
Gay were the sounds along the shore;
 A ship moved on in stately pride,
And then at last 'twas seen no more
 Upon the broad and glassy tide.
The sun set in the distant west,
 But clouds obscur'd its parting ray,
And sighs fill'd many a gentle breast
 For those so dear and far away.

Brave seamen joy to be once more
 Upon the free and bounding wave,
And travelers who the earth explore,
 And soldiers, but they find a grave!
The youthful bride, the aged sire,
 The mother with a heart of care,
And many who to fame aspire,
 All meet to weep, to perish, there.
While light was on the foaming sea
 Laughter and song had cheer'd the hours.
For many a heart was young and free;
 But now the brooding tempest lowers!

The mothers hush'd their babes to sleep,
 And sought the pillow of repose;
But late at night upon the deep
 A great and mighty tempest rose.
And like a leaf, each stately sail,
 Each trembling mast, was torn away,
And, by the howling, fearful gale.
 The ship was driven from her way.

But, lo, the sun in glory bright
 Shines cloudless o'er the hoarse black sea:
Farewell, the horrors of the night;
 Poor wand'rers, where may they now be?
See, see! on high they touch the cloud
 That mingles with the stormy wave;—
And now the waters are their shroud,
 The ocean's bosom too their grave.