Into the billows rough and wild
I fell, with many a frantic call—
Hoar-headed billows steeply piled—
Alas! it was a dreadful fall!
And with the breakers fierce and strong
I buffetted and struggled long;
And oft I prayed to Christ to save
And give me strength against the wave.
But ceaseless struggles robbed at length
My heart of hope, my limbs of strength;
My breast the rocks of ocean tore,
And ocean’s host of billows hoar.
I saw the day-light disappear,
And night with hideous gloom draw near;
The wind with loud and wrathful shout
Waged battle with the deluge stout.
I rode upon the billow’s breast,
Until at last, by waves oppressed,
I sunk as evening closed around,
And death amid the darkness found.
At dawn awaking from the pain
And terror that had racked my brain,
With mournful heart I learned too well
The meaning of that dream to spell.
Long years a constant suit I’ve paid
To Morvyth, the ungrateful maid[1].
*****
Oh! I could read the vision well!
Her kindred heartless hostile men,
These are the floods that on me fell
From every hill and hollow glen;
- ↑ A number of lines containing a mere repetition of his grievances are here omitted.
