Classic Poem

Oh Fate! where was thy mighty arm,
When beauty call'd thy aid?
Oh! Neptune! was thy potent charm,
Mysterious by thee laid?

Perhaps your eyes with savage joy
Saw Ocean swell around,
Bade waiting syrens quick destroy,
And bring the Halsewell down.

Ah, yes! the fatal morn was dark,
The misty snow thick fell;
The gale encreas'd, her planks they start,
Distraction round did yell.

She mounts, she mounts the ocean high,
Ah! down again she's roll'd;
Alas! six feet's the dreadful cry,
Of water in the hold.

A pleasing sight deludes their eyes,
Once more they view the land;
But, ah! 'twas death in dark disguise,
With fell despair at hand.

Each heart receives a transient beam
To reach the fatal shore;
The only anchor meets the stream,
And Hope can charm no more.

Now Ocean glut thy savage breast,
Spread wide thy watery tomb;
See death in various forms is drest,
To cram thy rav'nous womb.

The father soothes his child's alarms,
They cling around his waist,
And, lock'd in his paternal arms,
Receive his last embrace.

The gallant tars, unknown to shrink,
Support the trembling fair;
Tho' death stands gaping on the brink
Sends up for them a pray'r.

The masts are gone — their cries are vain —
They feel the dreadful shock;
She sinks — she rises once again —
She splits upon a rock!

Some few now climb the rugged steep,
Deep stain'd with human blood;
While some too feeble up to creep,
Fell back, and met the flood.

" No help! " the veteran Pearce cry'd,
The num'rous tongues said " None! "
E'en Neptune's hoary self reply'd,
" The mighty work's near done. "

The deep extends its jaws awide,
The tempest loud doth roar;
All help the merc'less winds deny'd,
The Halsewell is no more!

Pay one sweet tear, ye lovely girls,
That hear your sisters' fate:
And while your bosoms pity swells,
May safety round you wait.

Ye gen'rous Britons! you will shed
A tear to Beauty's shrine;
And long lament your brothers dead,
For soft compassion's thine.