I.
What Can Ail The Bergen Burghers
That They Leave Their Stoups Of Wine?
Flinging Up The Hill Like Jagers,
At The Hour They're Wont To Dine!
See, The Shifting Groups Are Fringing
Rock And Ridge With Gay Attire,
Bright As Northern Streamers Tinging
Peak And Crag With Fitful Fire!
II.
Towards the cliff their steps are bending,
Westward turns their eager gaze,
Whence a stately ship ascending,
Slowly cleaves the golden haze.
Landward floats the apparition -
"Is it, CAN it be the same?"
Frantic cries of recognition
Shout a long-lost vessel's name!
III.
Years ago had she departed -
Castled poop and gilded stern;
Weeping women, broken-hearted,
Long had waited her return.
When the midnight sun wheeled downwards,
But to kiss the ocean's verge -
When the noonday sun, a moment
Peeped above the Wintry surge,
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.
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