This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
20
THE WRECK OF THE POCAHONTAS.
We told our tale, and the boatmen cried:
"'Twas the Pocahontas,—all were lost!
For miles along the coast the tide
Her shattered timbers tossed."

Then I looked the whole horizon round,—
So beautiful the ocean spread
About us, o'er those sailors drowned!
"Father in heaven," I said,—

A child's grief struggling in my breast,—
"Do purposeless thy children meet
Such bitter death? How was it best
These hearts should cease to beat?

O wherefore! Are we naught to Thee?
Like senseless weeds that rise and fall
Upon thine awful sea, are we
No more then, after all¢?"

And I shut the beauty from my sight,
For I thought of the dead that lay below;
From the bright air faded the warmth and light,
There came a chill like snow.