Connecticut western news., 1872-03-08
From the Meriden RECORDER. Loss of the Oneida.
By W. R. Terrett.

Homeward bound from years Of wandering Mid the Orient's isles and seas, Waited still by winds rich-laden With the breath of orange trees. Through the glowing light of evening, Glides the ship before the breeze. Homeward bound! and all are gladdened By the visioned joys to come, Youths who dream of mothers kisses, Sturdy tars, long used to roam All on clouds of straining canvass And the glistening wake of foam Reach with throbbing hearts the signal
 Fastening home. Now the twilight fades, and darkness Wraps the flying ship in gloom, Sleep they all ?-that thus unnoticed On the dim horizon loom Ghostly masts and spars and bulwarks, Phantom messengers of doom? Still unseen the rushing monster Painting forth its breath of flame, Down upon the home bound vessel, Like savage demon came, All too late the shouts of warning Danger-death-at once proclaim. With era sh of rending timbers Backward from that iron keel, Through the seething rush of waters Does the smitten vessel reel. All unharmed the fell destroyer Passes onward through the night, Passes onward, while behind it Gallant hearts in fearful plight, Through long hours of dread and darkness Battle with the oceans might. Long they strive, but swelling surges All their toiling strength deride, Vain the toll, and vain the conflict, Through the widely riven side In strong, relentless torrent
 Ceaseless poured the hissing tide. "Man the boats'-but two are left them, And for each an hundred men, "Hopeless'-thus the boldest spirits Read the altered signals then, And the late born visions faded,
 Never more to glow again. Yet their courage never wavered,
 Not man of all the crew In that hour of bitter trial
 Proved unworthy. or untrue, But they saved the weak and helpless, While they bid their hope adieu. They had caught the inspiration
 From the gallant captains lips, t'Save yourselves who will, my comrades, shall perish with my ship" Long they watched the boats receding, Till they vanished in the gloom, Then a sense of awful presence
 On each spirit seemed to come, And they stood in solemn stiffness,
 Waiting-waiting- the doom. Death is not SO grim phantom,
 When he rides the tempest blast, Coming when the raging pillows
 Rush like maddened furies past, And before the storm winds power,
 Shreds the sail, and snaps the mast; But to sink mid peaceful waters,
 When the stars are bright on high, When the breeze comes soft and soothing And all nature seems to lie In trance of restful quiet,-
 Oh! 'tis fearful thus to die. Yet the brave hearts never faltered,
 Every man stood at his post With calm, heroic courage
 That no battle-life can boast. Here was not the headlong valour
 Rushing deathward with cheer, Here was not the stone-hewn boldness,
 Ignorant of the name of fear, Here was high and holy manhood
 That can meet death anywhere. With her flag still proudly flying,
 With her captain on her deck, Fully manned in hold and rigging,
 Sunk at last the shattered wreck. And the sun came up in brightness,
 And the waters glanced and shone. Where the gallant ship Oneida,
 And her gallant crew went down. When we come in early summer,
 Bearing tribute just and due, With tears and flowers for the graves
 Of our fallen, brave and true, Let us give one tender memory
 To the brave and true who sleep, Where no flower shall ever blossom
 Where no love shall ever weep.