IV.
Childless mothers, orphaned daughters,
From the seaward-facing crag,
Vainly searched the vacant waters
For that unreturning flag!
But, suspense and tears are ended,
Lo! it floats upon the breeze!
Ne'er from eager hearts ascended
Thankful prayers as warm as these.
V.
See the good ship proudly rounding
That last point that blocks the view;
"Strange! no answering cheer resounding
From the long home-parted crew!"
Past the harbour's stony gateway,
Onwards borne by sucking tides,
Tho' the light wind faileth - straightway
Into port she safely glides.
VI.
Swift, as by good angels carried,
Right and left the news has spread.
Wives long widowed-yet scarce married -
Brides that never hoped to wed,
From a hundred pathways meeting
Crowd along the narrow quay,
Maddened by the hope of meeting
Those long counted cast away.
VII.
Soon a crowd of small boats flutter
O'er the intervening space,
Bearing hearts too full to utter
Thoughts that flush the eager face!
See young Eric foremost gaining -
(For a father's love athirst!)
Every nerve and muscle straining,
But to touch the dear hand FIRST.
VIII.
In the ship's green shadow rocking
Lies his little boat at last,
Wherefore is the warm heart knocking
At his side, so loud and fast?
"What strange aspect is she wearing,
Vessel once so taut and trim?
Shout! - MY heart has lost its daring;
Comrades, search! - MY eyes are dim."
IX.
Sad the search, and fearful finding!
On the deck lay parched and dry
Men - who in some burning, blinding
Clime - had laid them down to die!
Hands - prayer - clenched - that would not sever,
Eyes that stared against the sun,
Sights that haunt the soul for ever,
Poisoning life - till life is done!
X.
Strength from fear doth Eric gather,
Wide the cabin door he threw -
Lo! the face of his dead father,
Stern and still, confronts his view!
Stately as in life he bore him,
Seated - motionless and grand,
On the blotted page before him
Lingers still the livid hand!
XI.
What sad entry was he making,
When the death-stroke fell at last?
"Is it then God's will, in taking
All, that I am left the last?
I have closed the cabin doorway,
That I may not see them die: -
Would our bones might rest in Norway, -
'Neath our own cool Northern sky!"
XII.
Then the ghastly log-book told them
How-in some accursed clime,
Where the breathless land-swell rolled them,
For an endless age of time -
Sudden broke the plague among them,
'Neath that sullen Tropic sun;
As if fiery scorpions stung them -
Died they raving, one by one!
