THERE were two fathers in this ghastly crew,And with them their two sons, of whom the one Was more robust and hardy to the view;But he died early: and when he was gone, His nearest messmate told his sire, who threwOne glance on him, and said, "Heaven"s will be done I can do nothing;" and he saw him thrownInto the deep, without a tear or groan.
The other father had a weaklier child, Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate;But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate: Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weightHe saw increasing on his father"s heart,With the deep, deadly thought, that they must part.
And o"er him bent his sire, and never raisedHis eyes from off his face, bat wiped the foam From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed:
And when the wished-for shower at length was come And the boy"s eyes, with the dull film half glazed,Brightened, and for a moment seemed to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child"s mouth; -but in vain!
The boy expired. The father held the clay, And looked upon it long; and when at lastDeath left no doubt, and the dead burden layStiff on his heart, and pulse and hope were past,He watched it wistfully until away"Twas borne by the rude wave wherein "twas cast; Then he himself sank down all dumb and shivering, And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering.
"Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; liker a veil,Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is masked but to assail.
Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown, And grimly darkled o"er their faces pale,And the dim, desolate deep: twelve days had Fear Been their familiar, and now Death was here.
Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell-Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave- Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell,As eager to anticipate their grave;And the sea yawned around her, like a hell,And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy,And strives to strangle him before he die.
And first one universal shriek there rushed, Louder than the loud ocean-like a crashOf echoing thunder; and then all was hushed,Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows; but at intervals there gushed,Accompanied by a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cryOf some strong swimmer in his agony.
- LORD BYRON (1788-1824)