Poems (Hoffman)/The Rescuer's Request

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

THE RESCUER'S REQUEST

Listen, did you not hear the cry,
That strong, weak wail of agony,
  Of a drowning, struggling soul?
Oh, could I still to the rescue fly,
To live with them or with them to die
  Ere the waters o'er them roll!
    Hark! 'tis the cry of a last despair,
    Lost, lost, on the merciless air;
    Tell me, oh friends, midst the storm and flood,
    Did I do all that I could?

My cold lips prayed for Herculean power
In the frightful spell of that awful hour,
When frightened face and when failing form
Were all I saw in the raging storm;
When the strong grew weak and the weak grew strong,
And the moments were years, unsolved and long;
When faces were turned to me
Frozen and white in their agony.
There was one who sought me with pleading eyes,
God only knows where his pale form lies.

There was one who reached out her hands in vain,
Can I ever forget that cry of pain,
While her long, bright tresses, like seaweed strands,
Floated out as she lifted those hopeless hands!
And a child's sweet, silent face went down,
And that hoary head with its glory crown;
While the scoffer's curse and the Christian's prayer
Mingled together on the burdened air;
Is there on my hands one drop of blood?
Tell me, did I do all I could?

O friends, you tell me no other arm
Like mine drew back from impending harm
The crowd who rushed from the blazing deck,
Or the crew who clung to the shattered wreck;
No other hand was so strong to save
The struggling souls from a watery grave;
No other dared like myself to grasp
Chill forms from the water's icy clasp,
Nor sacrificed on that sinking deck
Their life's young strength to a hopeless wreck!

Oh, tell me no more where another failed,
Where their strength gave way or their courage quailed;
There were fellow-men in that struggling storm,
With hope aglow and with life-blood warm
For perishing manhood and womanhood;
Did I do all that I could?
If one was lost whom I might have saved.
What care I for aught that I bore or braved,
If a human cry rung on the air,
That I might have calmed in its last despair?

Speak not of the few whom these hands have saved;
Tell not of the perils I met and braved;
The cries of the drowning disturb my rest,
Tell me, oh, this is my one request,
That no sinking soul on the waters tossed,
Whom I might have saved, was lost!
Oh, I can hear the drowning call,
I could not save them all.
They sink, I hear it, that sickening thud;
My God, did I do all that I could?