Classic Poem

The clouds are gathering thick and fast,
And onward comes the fearful blast;
Where madly roll the billows dark,
I see a frail and shattered bark.
I marked it when its snowy sail
Seemed sporting with the laughing gale;
Bird-like it glided from the shore,
And one I oft had seen before,
With sparkling eye and visage mild,
On the blue waters looked and smiled.


Hark! louder yet the tempest raves,
That bark is struggling with the waves,
And shrieks a frantic mother wild,
Oh, God of mercy! save my child!
She rushes forth distracted now,
One hand she presses to her brow;
Again that shriek of anguish wild,
Oh, God of mercy! save my child!
The storm is past, the billows sleep,
And calm and peaceful is the deep;
That bark hath sunk beneath the wave,
Its tenants found a watery grave.