126
poems.
THE WRECK.
(Written at the age of 12 years.)
The sun shone on the summer sea,
No cloud was in the azure sky,
The morning breeze was warm and free,
Yet scarce was heard its gentle sigh.
Gay were the sounds along the shore;
A ship moved on in stately pride,
And then at last 'twas seen no more
Upon the broad and glassy tide.
The sun set in the distant west,
But clouds obscur'd its parting ray,
And sighs fill'd many a gentle breast
For those so dear and far away.
No cloud was in the azure sky,
The morning breeze was warm and free,
Yet scarce was heard its gentle sigh.
Gay were the sounds along the shore;
A ship moved on in stately pride,
And then at last 'twas seen no more
Upon the broad and glassy tide.
The sun set in the distant west,
But clouds obscur'd its parting ray,
And sighs fill'd many a gentle breast
For those so dear and far away.
Brave seamen joy to be once more
Upon the free and bounding wave,
And travelers who the earth explore,
And soldiers, but they find a grave!
The youthful bride, the aged sire,
The mother with a heart of care,
And many who to fame aspire,
All meet to weep, to perish, there.
While light was on the foaming sea
Laughter and song had cheer'd the hours.
For many a heart was young and free;
But now the brooding tempest lowers!
Upon the free and bounding wave,
And travelers who the earth explore,
And soldiers, but they find a grave!
The youthful bride, the aged sire,
The mother with a heart of care,
And many who to fame aspire,
All meet to weep, to perish, there.
While light was on the foaming sea
Laughter and song had cheer'd the hours.
For many a heart was young and free;
But now the brooding tempest lowers!
