Zinzendorff and Other Poems/"There go the Ships"
"THERE GO THE SHIPS."
White-rob'd wanderers of the deep,
Whither speeds your trackless way?
Toward some islet's rocky steep,
Crowded mart, or swelling bay?
Polar ice, or tropic clime?
Zone where lingering mystery slept?
Region whence oblivious time
Hath the mouldering empire swept?
Bear'st thou in thy wind-tost car
Wealth to purchase wealth again?
Or the elements of war
Thundering o'er the hostile main?
Hid'st thou in thy hollow breast
Hearts in manly vigor warm?
Courage with his dauntless crest?
Venturous Beauty's fragile form?
Heed'st thou on thy stately course
All the dangers of the wave?
Stretching reefs, or breakers hoarse,
Wrecks that strew the watery grave?
Chambers where the mighty sleep
Powerless as the infant dead,
While the unfathomable deep
O'er them draws its curtain dread.
Gleaming pearls their pillow light,
Coral boss'd with ruby gem,
Builds their mausoleum bright;
What is Ocean's wealth to them?
Shouldst thou when the tempest's wrath
Mingles cloud and surging sea,
Plunge that same sepulchral path
What were all Earth's gold to thee?
Prayer's soft breath thy sails can fill,
Guide the prosperous on thy way,
Though, perchance, the pilot's skill
Yield to peril and dismay,
Though the needle's baffled care
Point not to its destin'd pole,
Still the God who heareth prayer
Rules the Sea, and saves the soul.