Poems (Hoffman)/The Waves and the Rocks

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

THE WAVES AND THE ROCKS.

O the beautiful, azure, white-capped waves,
 And the grand, grey rocks,
Where the sea-gull's wing in the breaker laves,
 And no tempest shocks.

Brightly the sky's blue banner streams
 O'er the blue waves now,
And the daisy's sapphire gem that gleams
 From the boulder's brow.

Is it a tale that the wild wind raves,
 That each listener shocks;
Of the innocent, smiling, deep blue waves,
 And the grand old rocks?

It is only a few short hours they say,
 Since a human form
Was caught by the waves in their idle play,
 Midst no wrathful storm.

But just for their cruel sport alone,
 'Gainst the sharp rock dashed;
With their vast united strength upthrown,
 Where the white surf splashed.

Struggling, despairing, reaching out
 For some hold to clasp;
'Till the treacherous waves, while they laugh and shout,
 Let go their grasp.

And the cruel rocks in their clammy hold,
 Near the shell-strewn beach,
Lift the mangled form, now still and cold,
 From the strong waves reach.

Ye may sport, grey rocks and breakers blue,
 But your charms have fled;
For a mother and sister because of you
 Weep o'er their dead.

With a dirge (through each swell that the rough shore laves)
 Death's phantom stalks;
Ye chill, mocking, rollicking, treacherous waves,
 Ye cruel rocks!