Poems (Charlotte Allen)/Reflections on the Disaster of the Lexington, January 13, 1840
REFLECTIONS ON THE DISASTER OF THE LEXINGTON, JAN. 13, 1840.
Methinks I see it now;
That fated barque, loosed from its moorings,
Proudly coursing o'er the heaving waves,
Bearing within its narrow confines
Many fond, confiding, joyous hearts,
Each with some treasured happiness
In view.
That fated barque, loosed from its moorings,
Proudly coursing o'er the heaving waves,
Bearing within its narrow confines
Many fond, confiding, joyous hearts,
Each with some treasured happiness
In view.
The day's departing beams,
Had softly faded into the shades
Of evening; the winds seemed hushed into
A gentle murmur, while the stars were
Smiling down in all their radiance.
Fast sped the boat and fearless, o'er the
Waters of her well known, oft-tried course;
While those who convened there in fancied
Safety, but little deemed that death was
Hovering 'round them; when the sad sound,
"The boat 's on fire!" came like a thunder-
Bolt to each one's heart. The appalling
Cry is echoed all around; they scarce
Believe they hear aright; transfixed they
Stand for one brief moment, in breathless
Silence, with affrighted gaze. Again,
"The boat 's on fire!" meets their astounded
Ears; madly they rush on deck; the flames
Are bursting forth, above, below, around;
With frenzied feelings they look in vain
For succor; death stares them in the face,
For two devouring elements seem
Waiting to engulph them; in haste they
Seek the boats, imagining to find,
Security within them; but the
Treacherous waves deny them safety.
How many hearts, riven with anguish,
Hold, trembling on the vessel's side, till
Exhausted strength, or fire's heat, sinks them
Beneath the wave. Others leap, in wild,
Despairing hopelessness, upon the
Water's breast, seeking a plank, or but
A straw to gain, to buoy them up. Vain
Hope, and brief as vain! death closed the
Tragic scene.
Had softly faded into the shades
Of evening; the winds seemed hushed into
A gentle murmur, while the stars were
Smiling down in all their radiance.
Fast sped the boat and fearless, o'er the
Waters of her well known, oft-tried course;
While those who convened there in fancied
Safety, but little deemed that death was
Hovering 'round them; when the sad sound,
"The boat 's on fire!" came like a thunder-
Bolt to each one's heart. The appalling
Cry is echoed all around; they scarce
Believe they hear aright; transfixed they
Stand for one brief moment, in breathless
Silence, with affrighted gaze. Again,
"The boat 's on fire!" meets their astounded
Ears; madly they rush on deck; the flames
Are bursting forth, above, below, around;
With frenzied feelings they look in vain
For succor; death stares them in the face,
For two devouring elements seem
Waiting to engulph them; in haste they
Seek the boats, imagining to find,
Security within them; but the
Treacherous waves deny them safety.
How many hearts, riven with anguish,
Hold, trembling on the vessel's side, till
Exhausted strength, or fire's heat, sinks them
Beneath the wave. Others leap, in wild,
Despairing hopelessness, upon the
Water's breast, seeking a plank, or but
A straw to gain, to buoy them up. Vain
Hope, and brief as vain! death closed the
Tragic scene.
There were proud hearts and stern,
And men of noble daring; but all,
All was terror in a scene like this.
Angels must have looked with pity on
That sight; there's not a heart that's heard the
Painful tale, but feels as if some loved
One had departed from their own dear
Fire-side: all eyes have wept over the
Horrors of that suffering night, which
Fancy cannot paint, nor pen describe.
And men of noble daring; but all,
All was terror in a scene like this.
Angels must have looked with pity on
That sight; there's not a heart that's heard the
Painful tale, but feels as if some loved
One had departed from their own dear
Fire-side: all eyes have wept over the
Horrors of that suffering night, which
Fancy cannot paint, nor pen describe.
Among the hapless crowd,
Moved one who just returned from some far
Distant clime, was wending onward to
His eastern home, to consummate, with
Heaven's blessing, a holy rite. But
His sweet dream of happiness was brief;
Death's angel hovered o'er him in that
Trying hour, and took his spirit to
A brighter realm.
Moved one who just returned from some far
Distant clime, was wending onward to
His eastern home, to consummate, with
Heaven's blessing, a holy rite. But
His sweet dream of happiness was brief;
Death's angel hovered o'er him in that
Trying hour, and took his spirit to
A brighter realm.
Truly he hath gone home,
But not the home he fondly dreamed of;
While she, the loved one, who with anxious
Thoughts was waiting his return, doth feel
The withering blast of disappointment
Hath passed o'er all her cherished hopes of
Future bliss, casting a shade around
Her path; deeply hath she drank from life's
Most bitter fountain; but may that
Great Being, within whose hands are all
Our destinies, assuage her grief, and
Pour into her bleeding heart the balm
Of consolation, bidding her lock
With an unclouded vision, to a
Reunion in the land of spirits.
But not the home he fondly dreamed of;
While she, the loved one, who with anxious
Thoughts was waiting his return, doth feel
The withering blast of disappointment
Hath passed o'er all her cherished hopes of
Future bliss, casting a shade around
Her path; deeply hath she drank from life's
Most bitter fountain; but may that
Great Being, within whose hands are all
Our destinies, assuage her grief, and
Pour into her bleeding heart the balm
Of consolation, bidding her lock
With an unclouded vision, to a
Reunion in the land of spirits.