Poems (Baldwyn)/The Wave

by Augusta Baldwyn

THE WAVE.

Oh, thou pure wave that murmurs on the shore,
 Thy crystal waters smiling in the sun,
On thy far way didst thou in tempests roar,
 And who pass'd o'er thee since thy course begun?
    Thou hast shone at morn,
     Thou hast slept at eve,
    Where hearts were joyful
     And where sad ones grieve!

Oh, thou pure wave that glitters on the strand,
 What hast thou witness'd on thy vari'd way?
Bore ye a father from his native land,
 Or a fond daughter from her home away?
    Has th' wide snowy sail
     Glided o'er thy light,—
    Fair forms in thy coolness
     Repos'd with delight?

Oh, thou proud wave that rests beneath this shade,
 Hast dash'd the vessel on the rock-bound shore?
Were struggling forms beneath thy power laid?
 Didst thou receive them to return no more?
    Thou didst wildly rush,
     Thou didst echo loud
    The wind's stormy voice,
     And ye prov'd their shroud!

Oh, thou pure wave that lies in perfect rest,
 Didst thou dance as the gay ones o'er thee pass'd?
Didst thou shine as they laugh'd upon thy breast,
 Or wast a foe with the wild, sudden blast?
    Thou hast wash'd the caves
     Where murderers dwell;
    Hast sigh'd where the loving
     Have said their farewell!

Oh, thou still wave that cools my trembling hands,
 A prouder life was thine upon the sea;
The ships of war thou bore from far-off lands,
 And merchant vessels, all have liv'd on thee.
    What hast thou mirror'd?
     The north polar-star?
    Hast thou leap'd in the light
     Of western suns far?

Oh, thou sweet wave, whose latest murmur's heard,
 Could thou relate all that has o'er thee sprung!
We may not hear from thy proud silence word;
 But with the winds hast thou in concert sung.
    Best thee, O thou wave,
     Till the breezy day
    Wakens thee again
     To hasten on thy way!