Gallantly over the proud sea’s foam
Doth the noble vessel ride,
She hath braved the storm in her voyage home,
And the hurricane’s blast defied;
Full faithful hath she borne her load
To the far-off sunny shore,
And over the Storm-King’s dark abode
Is returning home once more.
Hopefully to their rest at night
Go an anxious-hearted band,
For the captain hath said, “With the morning light
You shall gaze on the wished-for land.”
And with many a dream of home and friends,
And of loved ones far away,
Drawn near by the charm that dreamland lends,
They wait for the coming day.
But, alas! ere the water-weed shall bow
To the morning’s perfumed breath,
There are many who dream so peacefully now
Shall sleep the sleep of Death;
For the dark-winged angel is hovering nigh,
And brooding above the deck,
And the morn shall reveal to the passer-by
Not even a shapeless wreck.
The mysterious midnight hour is past,
With naught to affright or harm,
When wild and high on the wailing blast
There is borne a fierce alarm;
And the dreamers awake from their peaceful sleep,
Aroused by the sudden shock,
To find, alas! that their noble ship
Hath struck on a sunken rock.
There were many and mingled cries that night,
Arose on the stormy air;
Loud anxious calls for the morning light,
And a few low sounds of prayer;
We know not but their prayers were heard
By the God who rules the wave,
But at morn the winds and the wild sea-bird
Sang a requiem over their grave.
Nikos Deja Vu