Poems and Essays

by Joseph Howe

 

THE STORMY PETREL.

 
Away—away—o’er the deep blue wave,
    I spread my forward wing,
And the Winter’s gale as proudly brave
    As the balmy airs of Spring.

A venturous life and gay I lead,
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    Whatever wind may blow,
There’s a boundless sky above my head,
    And boundless seas below.

Let the Birds of Land to homes repair
    Beneath the greenwood tree,
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The hunter’s tube awaits them there—
    He dare not follow me.

I scorn the land and the landsman’s hate,
    The sailor’s Bird am I;
My life is charm’d, for he knows the fate
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    Of those by whom I die. [Page 83]

In shady groves and woodland bower,
    Let others rear the nest,
On the crested wave, in its wildest hour
    I fold my wing to rest.
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Though the hedge may boast its perfumed rose,
    And clear the Streamlets-shine,
Oh! what are the joys of earth to those
    That ev’ry hour are mine?

The Linnet may list the Peasant’s sigh
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    At rosy eventide,
I catch the glance of the Rover’s eye,
    As he clasps his sea borne Bride.

The Iceberg’s dangerous track I mark,
    Till it wastes beneath the sun,
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And I float above the ravening Shark,
    When his struggling prey is won;

I mark the sport, when the black cloud scowls,
    And the Tars aloft are sent,
And the sun-bleached sail, while the tempest howls,
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    From their hands like chaff is rent.

When the pumps are choked, and the gallant ship
    Goes down to ocean’s cave,
I flap my wing o’er her pennon’s tip,
    Ere it sinks beneath the wave.
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When embattl’d fleets, in fierce array,
    Their sulph’rous broadsides pour. [Page 84]
The varying fortunes of the day,
    The belching cannons’ roar,—

The dying groan—the rallying cry—
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    The Boarder’s desperate leap,—
These are the scenes that glad my eye,
    The wonders of the deep.

Then away—away—o’er the wave I’ll rove
    With restless wing and free,
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The timid may seek the leafy grove,
    Give me the stormy sea. [Page 85]