Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/147

Round their tall ship, the main
Heaved with a dark red stain,
        Caught not from sunset's cloud;
While with the tide swept past
Pennon and shivered mast,

Which to the Ocean Queen that day had bow'd.

But free and fair on high,
A native of the sky,
        Her streamer met the breeze;
It flowed o'er fearless men,
Though hushed and child-like then,

Before their God they gathered on the seas.

Oh! did not thoughts of home
O'er each bold spirit come
        As, from the land, sweet gales?
In every word of prayer
Had not some hearth a share,

Some bower, inviolate midst England's vales?