He's safe, sweet lamb, in the Shepherd's care,
Sorrow nor suffering enters there;
But with brow of gladness, clothed in light,
He is fair as the angels in His sight.
I know what they said to me was true,
And should have fallen on my heart like dew;
For, although my grief was very sore,
My baby was safe for evermore.
I know that they spoke with kindly care,
My grief to comfort and soothe, or share;
But I gave my baby the last, last kiss,
Saying, God alone comforts grief like this.
THE FATE OF HENRY HUDSON.
I, Louis Marin, mariner, born on the Breton coast,
Must pass from earth away,
And, because wild remorse
Pursues me--is my curse,
My guilty hand this day
Will write down of the crime that haunts my death-bed like a ghost.
In sixteen hundred ten,
Bold Hudson and his men
Left London town behind with its castles, towers and fanes,
The crew were twenty-three,
Which, alas! included me
When the good ship _Discovery_ went sailing down the Thames
We were all picked men and strong,
We took willing hearts along
Yes, our hearts were bold and brave
Every eye was keen and bright,
When the wild Atlantic wave
Hid the homeland from our sight
On a voyage of discovery bound to win a high renown,
That on the line of years our names be proudly handed down
As, with merry hearts and light, we flew on before the blast,
We little dreamed this voyage was ordained to be our last
All full of reckless venture and so fearless--could we know
Hope beckoned on a path of fame to lure us into woe,
As we sailed into the frozen seas, the place of ice and snow,
We sighted the ominous Farewell Cape
And steered north through drift ice up Baffin's Strait
Oh, lonely and drear to the weary eye
Were the vast ice-fields floating slowly by
Not a blade of grass not a leaf to tell
That the summer verdure was possible
Round the pale horizon, the aching sight
Met an awful vastness of barren white,
As if earth lay beneath the chilly sky
Struck to death by Gehazi's leprosy
We sailed on, and round us on every hand,
On the darkling wave, on the desert strand,
On the rock-bound coast, on the icy cape,
The ice heaved up in wild fantastic shape;
In mountain, and mosque, and cathedral dome,
Lofty peak, and column, and minaret,
And ponderous arches in order set,
Tower and spire and pinnacle high,
Soaring up to the deep blue sky
Statues ice sculptured, frost work and fret,
That had some weird likeness to sights at home.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126