Sir Humphrey Gilbert

Southward with fleet of ice
    Sailed the corsair Death;
Wild and fast blew the blast,
    And the east-wind was his breath.

His lordly ships of ice
    Glisten in the sun;
On each side, like pennons wide,
    Flashing crystal streamlets run.

His sails of white sea-mist
    Dripped with silver rain;
But where he passed there were cast
    Leaden shadows o'er the main.

Eastward from Campobello
    Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed;
Three days or more seaward he bore,
    Then, alas! the land-wind failed.

Alas! the land-wind failed,
    And ice-cold grew the night;
And nevermore, on sea or shore,
    Should Sir Humphrey see the light.

He sat upon the deck,
    The Book was in his hand
"Do not fear!    Heaven is as near,"
    He said, "by water as by land!"

In the first watch of the night,
    Without a signal's sound,
Out of the sea, mysteriously,
    The fleet of Death rose all around.

The moon and the evening star
    Were hanging in the shrouds;
Every mast, as it passed,
    Seemed to rake the passing clouds.

They grappled with their prize,
    At midnight black and cold!
As of a rock was the shock;
    Heavily the ground-swell rolled.

Southward through day and dark,
    They drift in close embrace,
With mist and rain, o'er the open main;
    Yet there seems no change of place.

Southward, forever southward,
    They drift through dark and day;
And like a dream, in the Gulf-Stream
    Sinking, vanish all away.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and educator. He wrote many lyric poems known for their musicality and often presenting stories of mythology and legend. Some of his famous works include "Paul Revere's Ride" and "The Song of Hiawatha." Longfellow was one of the most popular American poets of his time and remains a significant figure in the canon of American literature.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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English

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The Wreck Of The Hesperus

It was the schooner Hesperus,
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And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
    To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
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The skipper he stood beside the helm,
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Then up and spake an old Sailor,
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The Fishermen

Hurrah! the seaward breezes
Sweep down the bay amain;
Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
Leave to the lubber landsmen
The rail-car and the steed;
The stars of heaven shall guide us,
The breath of heaven shall speed.
From the hill-top looks the steeple,
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For the homes we leave one sigh,
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What flecks the outer gray beyond
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From gray sea-fog, from icy drift,
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The home-bound fisher greets thy lights,
O hundred-harbored Maine!
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When, tall and white, the Dead Ship looms
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She rounds the headland's bristling pines;
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They ran through the streets of the seaport town,
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Filled with the children in happy play,
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The Cruise Of The Galleon

This laboring vast, Tellurian Galleon,
Riding at anchor off the orient sun,
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Old earth riding off the sun,
And straining at your cable as you ride
On the tide,
Battered laboring and vast,
In the blast
Of the hurricane that blows between the worlds,
Ahoy!

'Morning, shipmates! 'Drift and chartless?
Laded deep and rolling hard?
Never guessed, outworn and heartless,
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Ice on every shroud and eyelet,
Rocking in the windy trough?
No more panic; Man's your pilot;
Turns the flood, and we are off!

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