Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/107

See! see! amid the foaming surge
    There seems a speck to float,
And with such speed as oars can urge
    Toils on the labouring boat,
The Prince is safe—but to his ear
    There fell a distant shriek,
Which to his strained eye brought the tear,
    And paleness to his cheek.

That voice! 'twas by his cradle side,
    When with sweet dream he slept,
It ruled his wrath, it soothed his pride,
    When moody boyhood wept,
'Twas with him in his hour of glee,
    Gay sports and pastimes rare,
And at his sainted mother's knee,
    Amid the evening prayer.

Plunging he dared the breakers hoarse,
    None might the deed restrain,
And battled with a maniac's force
    The madness of the main:
He snatched his sister from the wreck,
    Faint was her accent dear,
Yet strong her white arms 'twined his neck—
    "Blest William! art thou here?"

The wild waves swelled like mountains on,
    The blasts impetuous sweep;
Where is the heir of England's throne?
    Go—ask the insatiate deep!
He sleeps in Ocean's coral grove,
    Pale pearls his bed adorn,
A martyr to that holy love
    Which with his life was born.