Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEATH OF THE SEA KING, by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Dark, how dark the morning Last Line: The earl and the maiden together lie dead! Alternate Author Name(s): L. E. L.; Maclean, Letitia Subject(s): Death; Dead, The | ||||||||
DARK, how dark the morning That kindles the sky! But darker the scorning Of Earl Harold's eye; On his deck he is lying, -- It once was his throne, Yet there he is dying, Unheeded and lone. There gather'd round nor follower nor foeman, But over him bendeth a young and pale woman. He has lived mid the hurtle Of spears and of snow; Yet green droops the myrtle Where he is laid low: The vessel is stranded On some southern isle; The foes that are banded Will wait her awhile: -- Ay, long is that waiting -- for never again Will the Sea Raven sweep o'er her own northern main. He was born on the water, 'Mid storm and 'mid strife; Through tempest and slaughter Was hurried his life; Few years has he numbered, And golden his head, Yet the north hills are cumbered With bones of his dead. The combat is distant, the whirlwind is past From the spot where Earl Harold is breathing his last. 'Tis an isle which the ocean Has kept like a bride, For the moonlit devotion Of each gentler tide; No eye hath ere wander'd, No step been addrest, Where nature has squander'd Her fairest and best. Yet the wild winds have brought from the Baltic afar That vessel of slaughter, that lord of the war. He saw his chiefs stooping, But not unto him; The stately form drooping, The flashing eye dim. The wind from the nor'erd Swept past, fierce and free It hurried them forward, They knew not the sea; And a foe track'd their footsteps more stern than the tide -- The plague was among them -- they sicken'd and died. Left last, and left lonely, Earl Harold remain'd; One captive -- one only Life's burden sustain'd; She watch'd o'er his sleeping, Low, sweetly she spoke, He saw not her weeping, She smiled when he woke; Tho' stern was his bearing and haughty his tone, He had one gentler feeling, and that was her own. Fierce the wild winds were blowing That drove them all night, Now the hush'd waves are flowing In music and light: The storm is forsaking Its strife with the main, And the blue sky is breaking Thro' clouds and thro' rain: They can see the fair island whereon they are thrown, Where the palms and the spice-groves rise lovely and lone. Her bright hair is flying Escaped from its fold, The night-dews are drying Away from its gold; The op'ning flowers quiver Beneath the soft air; She turns with a shiver From what is so fair. Paler, colder the forehead that rests on her knee! For her, in the wide world, what is there to see! He tries -- vain the trying -- To lift up his sword, As if still defying The Death, now his lord. Once to gaze on the ocean, His lips faintly stir; But life's last emotion Is one look on her. Down drops on his bosom her beautiful head, -- The Earl and the maiden together lie dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND CALYPSO WATCHING THE OCEAN by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON |
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