Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE OLD SEAPORT, by DAVID MACBETH MOIR Poet's Biography First Line: When winds were wailing round me Last Line: The wild seas made reply. Alternate Author Name(s): Delta Subject(s): Culross, Perthsire, Scotland; Death; Funerals - At Sea; Sailing & Sailors; Sea Gulls; Seashore; Dead, The; Burials At Sea; Beach; Coast; Shore | ||||||||
I. WHEN winds were wailing round me, And Day, with closing eye, Scowled from beneath the sullen clouds Of pale November's sky, In downcast meditation All silently I stood, Gazing the wintry ocean's Rough, bleak, and barren flood. II. A place more wild and lonely Was nowhere to be seen; The caverned sea-rocks beetled o'er The billows rushing green; There was no sound from aught around, Save, 'mid the echoing caves, The plashing and the dashing Of the melancholy waves. III. High, 'mid the lowering waste of sky, The grey gulls flew in swarms; And far beneath the surf upheaved The sea-weed's tangly arms; The face of Nature in a pall Death-shrouded seemed to be, As by St Serf's lone tomb arose The dirges of the sea. IV. In twilight's shadowy scowling, Not far remote there lay Thine old dim harbour, Culross, Smoky, and worn, and grey; Through far-back generations Thy blackened piles had stood, And, though the abodes of living men, All looked like solitude. V. Of hoar decrepitude all spake, And ruin and decay; Of fierce, wild times departed; Of races passed away; Of quaint, grim vessels beating up Against the whelming breeze; Of tempest-stricken mariners, Far on the foamy seas. VI. It spake of swart grey-headed men, Now dust within their graves, Who sailed with Barton or with Spens, To breast the trampling waves; And how, in shallops picturesque, Unawed they drifted forth, Directed by the one bright star, That points the stormy North. VII. And how, when windows rattled, And strong pines bowed to earth, Pale wives, with trembling children mute, Would cower beside the hearth, All sadly musing on the ships, That, buffeting the breeze, Held but a fragile plank betwixt The sailor and the seas. VIII. How welcome their return to home! What wondrous tales they told, Of birds with rainbow plumage, And trees with fruits of gold; Of perils in the wilderness, Beside the lion's den; And huts beneath the giant palms, Where dwelt the painted men! IX. 'Mid melancholy fancies My spirit loved to stray, Back thro' the mists of hooded Eld, Lone wandering, far away; When dim-eyed Superstition Upraised her eldritch croon, And witches held their orgies Beneath the waning moon. X. Yes! through Tradition's twilight, To days had Fancy flown When Canmore or when Kenneth dree'd The Celt's uneasy crown; When men were bearded savages, An unenlightened horde, 'Mid which gleamed Cunning's scapulaire, And War's unshrinking sword. XI. And, in their rusty hauberks, Throng'd past the plaided bands; And slanting lay the Norsemen's keels On ocean's dreary sands; And, on the long flat moorlands, The cairn, with lichens grey, Mark'd where their souls shriek'd forth in blood, On Battle's iron day. XII. Between me and the sea, loomed out The ivied Abbey old, In whose grim vaults the Bruces kneel In marble quaint and cold; And where, inurned, lies hid the heart Of young Kinloss deplored, Whose blood, by Belgium's Oster-Scheldt, Stain'd Sackville's ruthless sword. XIII. Waned all these trancèd visions; But, on my eerie sight, Remained the old dim seaport Beneath the scowl of night; The sea-mews for their island cliffs Had left the homeless sky, And only to the dirgeful blast The wild seas made reply. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEASHORE by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS EASTERN LONG ISLAND by MARVIN BELL THE WIND IS BLOWING WEST by JOSEPH CERAVOLO IF SOMETHING SHOULD HAPPEN by LUCILLE CLIFTON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER EMPTIES INTO THE GULF by LUCILLE CLIFTON GEOGRAPHY AS WARNING by MADELINE DEFREES POWER FAILURE by MADELINE DEFREES THE RUSTIC LAD'S LAMENT IN THE TOWN by DAVID MACBETH MOIR |
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