Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/224

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ship's bell tolled, and slowly o'er the deck Came forth the summoned crew.—Bold, hardy men, Far from their native skies, stood silent there, With melancholy brows.—From a low cloud That o'er the horizon hovered, came the threat Of distant, muttered thunder. Broken waves Heaved up their sharp, white helmets, o'er the expanse Of ocean, which in brooding stillness lay Like some vindictive king, who meditates On hoarded wrongs, or wakes the wrathful war. The ship's bell tolled!—And lo, a youthful form, Which oft had boldly dared the slippery shrouds At midnight's watch, was as a burden laid Down at his comrades' feet.—Mournful they gazed Upon his hollow cheek, and some there were Who in that bitter hour remembered well The parting blessing of his hoary sire, And the fond tears that o'er his mother's cheek Went coursing down, when his gay, happy voice Left its farewell.—But one who nearest stood To that pale shrouded corse, remembered more:— Of a white cottage with its shaven lawn, And blossomed hedge, and of a fair-haired girl Who at her lattice, veiled with woodbine, watched His last, far step, and then turned back to weep. And close that comrade in his faithful breast Hid a bright chestnut lock, which the dead youth Had severed with a cold and trembling hand