Poems (Rice)/To the Ship Northern Empire

4528450Poems — To the Ship Northern EmpireMaria Theresa Rice
TO THE SHIP NORTHERN EMPIRE.
QUEENLY ship! they tell me thou art sailing
Far o'er the waters on the mighty deep;
That purple shadows thy form are veiling,
And only stars their constant vigils keep.
First in thy beauty I saw thee gliding
Adown the stream from dear Columbia's shore;
Then, alas! the mountain billows riding—
See storm-clouds threaten, list the ocean's roar.

They look, and wonder why no tears are streaming
For one thou hold'st so very dear to me,
And say how strange, indifferent seeming,
Then look in vain some signs of grief to see;
On my spirit's pinion I am flying
Through midnight blackness o'er the rolling wave;
Useless to weep, and vainer still is sighing—
I look to thee, O Father! thou canst save.

Stay, blustering winds! ye lightnings, cease your flashing!
Look up, thou youthful wanderer through the din!
Nay, start not at the heavy thunder clashing;
Look up, and put thy confidence in Him.
Stand firm, my boy, with all thy noble daring;
Gaze not aloft to see the bending mast;
But trust in Him, the great, the ever-caring;
He'll help thee safely to outride the blast.

And time seems but a dream since thou wert given,
A dimpled babe, pure from thy Maker's hand;
Ah! now I trust in the decree of Heaven
To guard the same the water as the land.
Never again, O, never may I wander
Near thy pillow for the good-night kiss—
There are themes I do not dare to ponder;
One of the tenderest, I'm sure, is this.

Queenly ship! how many thou art holding,
Round whom the tendrils of affection cling;
How many throbbing hearts are now enfolding
The loved thou bearest, thou stately thing!
Changed the happy homes which rang with gladness,
When children played around their father's knee;
Upon their brows there rests a look of sadness,
Tinged with the same are all their songs of glee.

Now, farewell to this unfinished story;
Farewell, sweet dreams of happy days by-gone;
Sail, fair ship, in all your pride and glory,
A wreath is waiting when the voyage is done.
Affection's wreath shall ever be unbroken;
While life remains, we'll keep it fresh for thee:
The deepest thought, alas, remains unspoken,
For those who wander on the dark blue sea.