Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SEA-KING'S BURIAL; BY THE MIDSHIPMITE'S MOTHER, by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SEA-KING'S BURIAL; BY THE MIDSHIPMITE'S MOTHER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I, as his henchman served
Last Line: Most of all men?
Subject(s): Death; Loyalty; Service; Wishes; Dead, The


I, as his henchman served,
Well I of him deserved,
Never in danger swerved,
Never in fear.
So the old vow once made
I, to the word obeyed
When my lord, undismayed,
Knew death was near.

Oft he said, 'Never rest
Shall visit valiant breast
In narrow coffin prest
Swathed in shroud,
Launch me some stormy night,
Clad brave in harness bright,
Swifter than eagle's flight.
Winds piping loud.'

So, when I, watching him,
Saw the eyes glazing dim,
Felt stiffen every limb,
Bore I him forth,
Clear twinkled myriad stars,
Sparkled his helmet's bars,
Clear shone on ancient scars,
Lights of the North.

Ah! Hilda's eyes of blue
Had pierced me through and through,
Sweet cheeks of pearly hue—
Soft locks of gold.
So did he sail alone
Calm as a king of stone
In some crypt lying lone
Of minster old.

Now every night of storm
Leave I her claspings warm,
Looking to see a form
Cleave through the dark.
Sailing against the wind,
Clear cut and well defined,
Sparks trailing far behind
Yon little bark.

Think I the deck will bear,
Him clad in armour rare,
With his right hand made bare,
Beckoning to One;
One, on whose faithless breast
He should have sunk to rest—
One whom he loved the best
Under the sun.

But while I waiting stand,
Comes a warm, loving hand,
Leading with action bland,
Me towards home.
Back from that tott'ring cliff,
Leading me stark and stiff—
Ah! but that moment if—
She had not come!

Nigh to our home did float,
Waiting, that fatal boat.
Truly my breast I smote,
Thus, all alone.
Thus, launched the wounded king,
Forth to go wandering;
Would not each billow bring
His dying moan?

But I the vow had sworn—
I, in his household born,
Were I not worthy scorn
Now, did I shrink?
So then I laid him soft
On the deck trod so oft,
While keen and cold aloft
Did the stars blink.

Pushed I the boat from shore
With the great freight it bore,—
Pushed it, I could no more,
Traitor and craven.
Watched the white sails of snow
Forth in the midnight go,
Watched flapping to and fro
The mystic Raven!

Sudden the tempest grew—
Icy the north winds blew—
As though they also knew
Who sailed that night.
Shall he lack tears eno'
Salt tears on breast and brow?
Tears such as well I trow
Then dimmed my sight.

Watched I the dusky bark
Fade o'er the waters dark,
Long I it black did mark
White crests between;
Wild winds were sobbing sad,
Wild waves were leaping mad,
Wild voices shrieking glad
Of the Unseen!

Why did I leave my lord?
I, who at bed and board
Dear as his trusty sword,
Even till then?
Bided him close beside,
Why should e'en death divide
One he had loved and tried
Most of all men?





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