Verses and Rhymes By the Way Part 19

When the grey of dawn came in the sky, With a scream and a cheer the fiends vanished; Over the side filing silently Went our messmates, the corpses swollen and dead, Gliding over the waves with the vanis.h.i.+ng night Till the low clouds covered them up from our sight.

We, like men who have got respite from pain, Put about the s.h.i.+p toward home again, The sails swelled out with a favouring wind; The coast of horrors we left behind.

And cheerily sailed in the blessed light; But the ghosts of the crew came back at night.

Whatever distance we gained by day.

They steered us back in the moonlight grey.

How it came to pa.s.s I can never tell, But I thought of G.o.d in the jaws of h.e.l.l-- Through my despair came the thought that He Was a helper in extremity For the first time in my wandering years, My burning eyes felt the bliss of tears Like refres.h.i.+ng dew on soul and sense Fell the softening grace of penitence The Grace Divine that maketh whole, Stole into the darkness of my soul

Sad thoughts were rising into prayer, By the wheel on the night air chill and raw The ghost of my messmate stood by me, And looked in my face with eyes that saw The blue lips said "Be awake, and aware, The enchanted s.h.i.+p will touch the sh.o.r.e, Fly then from us, and you will be free, Your penance of suffering will be o'er But the rest, for the deed that they have done Shall sail on without rest beneath the sun."

I made my escape when we reached the sh.o.r.e, And I saw the s.h.i.+p and the crew no more Alone I laid myself down to die, No human aid, as I thought, was nigh I longed for death, I was not afraid I was found by roving hunter bands, Brought back to life by merciful hands, The hands of a dark skinned Indian maid.

She nursed me with skill and tenderness, And recovered me from loathsomeness But the day has come and the hours draw nigh, When I, Louis Marin, must surely die I write down my crime, that soon or late The world may know Captain Hudson's fate

I write of our crime and our sufferings, Of vengeance that follows, remorse that stings Messmates remember though crime is done, In the lonest spot beneath the sun, Where footstep of man has never trod, It's under the eye of an avenging G.o.d.

He comes near, a Swift Witness, with intent That they who sow crime shall reap punishment.

FORSAKEN.

Beside the open window she is lying, Through which comes softly in the balmy air, And fans her wasted cheek; but slowly dying, She seeth not that autumn's finger fair Tinges the golden landscape everywhere.

She seeth not the glory of the maples, That in their crimson robes surround her home; Nor the rich red of the ripe cl.u.s.tering apples In the old orchard, where can never come Her flying feet to stoop and gather some.

That is her home where in life's young May morning, She careless sung the joyful hours away; A happy-hearted child, to whom no warning Came of the future s.h.i.+pwreck by the way, Or of the wors.h.i.+pped idol turned to clay.

The place has pa.s.sed to strangers; unregretting, She looks upon the home, no longer hers, Of all the happy past she's unforgetting; But deeper anguish now her bosom stirs, The sorrow that can find no comforters.

Father and mother lie beneath the gra.s.ses, That lonely wave within the churchyard gloom; And the sad wind is wailing as it pa.s.ses Asking the dead to hasten and make room, For her that's slowly sinking to the tomb

Seeing as if she saw not, one sore longing Is she awake to, as she lieth here, Dead to regretful thoughts that round are thronging, All too absorbed to shed repenting tear, Or look into the future drawing near

She hath lost all the keen desire of living, The power to grieve over a vanished name, She thinks one thought, poor child, her heart forgiving All of her wrongs, all of her suffered shame, And has no power left with which to blame

Never again shall hope with her awaken, For all hope buried in one small grave lies, But her heart longs that he who has forsaken Should look once more with kindness in her eyes And take her poor forgiveness ere she dies

So in a calm that hopes for no a.s.sistance, With longings that are lost in empty air Her dying eyes are fixed upon the distance, Lest he should come upon her unaware, "He cometh not," she whispers in despair.

KEEPING TRYST

Who is the maid with silken hair By clear Maine Water roaming?

For the fairy Queen is not so fair As she in the lonely gloaming

It is sweet Mysie of Bellee, John Millar's lovely daughter; She is waiting where the old elm tree Droops over the sweet Maine Water.

"The trysting time has come and past, The day is fast declining; Oh my true love, are you coming fast, For the star of love is s.h.i.+ning?"

"The moon is bright, the ford is safe, The market folks crossed over; Oh, come to me, it is wearing late, And I wait for thee, my lover.

"I fear me there will be a storm, The clouds, with murky fingers, Are m.u.f.fling the stars o'er far Galgorm, Where my own true lover lingers."

She turned her from the trysting tree, So sadly home returning, Saying "He has broken tryst with me, And his s.h.i.+p sails in the morning."

She took three steps from that sad place, Where doubt of him had found her; And he stood before her face to face, And he drew his arm around her.

"I thought, without one last farewell, We had for ever parted; And I could not of the anguish tell That had left me broken hearted.

"My love I'm going far away; Whatever may betide us, Our loving hearts are one for aye, Though the roaring seas divide us."

He broke a ring between them two; He made a vow to bind him To death, and beyond it to be true To her he had left behind him.

Years pa.s.sed, the maiden secretly Watched on with anxious wonder, For some love message; but treachery Kept the two fond hearts asunder.

She lived in hope that he would write, And some love token send her; Her step grew feeble, her face grew white, And her eyes got unearthly splendour.

And lovers they besieged her sore; For love that she had given To one who would come to her no more; So she faded into heaven.

They made her grave where robins sing; Trees whisper requiems daily; They laid her down with her broken ring; In her grave at Kirk ma Rielly.

Word went out of the maiden's death, Who for true love departed; It found him who mourned her broken faith, And mourned her as false, falsehearted.

He turned as cold as cold, cold clay, And fell struck down with sorrow; "I know how my dear love died to-day, I will die for her to-morrow.

"My love is dead so sweet and fair, Blighted and broken hearted, I'll keep my tryst, and together dead, We'll rest who were falsely parted.

"Gold that my darling could not save, That made my love derided, Shall carry me home and dig my grave, We'll not be in death divided."

They made his grave on Erin's breast, Where the birds sing requiems daily; And laid him beside his love to rest, In the grave-yard of Kirk ma Bielly.

EDGAR

I have not wept for Edgar, as a mother Weeps for the tender lamb she lays to rest; And yet it cannot be that any other Baby like him shall lie upon my breast; For he was with us but a pa.s.sing guest, A birdling that belonged not to the nest.

Looking upon his large dark eyes so tender, Filled with the solemn light of Paradise, I knew that word would soon come to surrender, My babe, not mine, but native to the skies; As the sweet lark that ever upward flies, He would be taken from my longing eyes.

For from the first he looked to be earth-weary, And clung to me with no desire to play; He never laughed and crowed with spirit cheery Like my earth babies; but from day to day Seemed ever yearning for the far-away, And well I knew he could not with me stay

The angels whispered things I knew not of, My babe had visions of a far-off land, I knew it, that he yearned for higher love, And reached to touch another unseen hand, That drew him from my little household band, They wailed for him of whom they were so fond