Classic Poem

The waves were rough, and the half-moon peeped
From the clouds with a timid light.
We were three when we stepped aboard the boat:
Three souls who sailed by night.

The oars in the water drearily plashed
Like the sound of a listless sigh.
We were sprinkled wet by the white sea-foam
As the waves went surging by.

So slender, still, and pale she stood,
So wan and yet so sweet!
Like some marble statue of Italy
Diana's counterfeit.

The wind was whistling bleak and cold,
The moon was hid away,
When overhead there rang a scream
Of sudden, shrill dismay.

It was the cry of the sea-mew white,
Like a ghost above in the gloom,
We three who heard it were afraid —
It seemed a voice of doom.

Am I stricken with fever? What phantasy wild
Of midnight burns my brain?
Am I mocked of a dream? What dream is this,
Incredible, insane?

I dream I am the Lord himself,
And that I carry, too,
The heavy cross that Jesus bore,
Long-suffering and true.

The poor pale beauty is sore distressed,
But I will end her pain:
From scorn and woe deliver her,
And every earthly stain.

Ah, shudder not, thou lovely one,
Though harsh the medicine be;
I'll pour, albeit with breaking heart,
The cup of death for thee.

O gruesome dream! O folly wild!
Delirium mad! I rave!
The darkness yawns, the billows crash;
Jehovah, hear and save!

O pitiful God, forsake me not!
O merciful God Schaddey!
A something falls in the sea like lead.
Schaddey! Schaddey! Adonay! —

The sun arose and we steered for the land,
That glowed with the bloom of May.
We were two when we stepped ashore from the boat;
We were three when we sailed away.