HOW like the leper, with his own sad cry Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls! That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals, To warn us from the place of jeopardy! O friend of man! sore-vexed by ocean's power, The changing tides wash o'er thee day by day; Thy trembling mouth is filled with bitter spray, Yet still thou ringest on from hour to hour; High is thy mission, though thy lot is wild -- To be in danger's realm a guardian sound; In seamen's dreams a pleasant part to bear, And earn their blessing as the year goes round, And strike the key-note of each grateful prayer, Breathed in their distant homes by wife or child! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NATURES COOK by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH NOW AND AFTERWARDS by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK AT CANDLE-LIGHTIN' TIME by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE CLIFF SWALLOWS by DEBRA NYSTROM DICK, A MAGGOT by JONATHAN SWIFT THE SECOND MOTHERHOOD by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |