The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-06-05
ATLANTIC"
ny B. F. TAYLOR.

Ay, build her long and narrow and deep;
She shall cut the sea with cirneteris sweep,
Whatever betides and whoever may weepl
Bring out the red wine! Lift the glass to the lip:
With the roar Of great guns, and - Hip hip
Hurrah :" for the craft We VIII christensthe ship,
Dash draught on the bow All, the spar Of white
Drip into the sea tin it colors the flood
With the very own double and symbol Of blood!
Now out with the name Of the monarch gigantic
That shall queen 1t SO grandly when surges are
Child Of nre and OF iron, God save the Atlantct
All freighted with power below and aboye.
The heart of a fend and the wing of dove
Tumble IN the brave cargo Of live aud of love!
Good for thousand souls, Hustle them in.
Your mother and mine shall the census begin;
Then tell Of the children too little to sin
With furnace Of fire and forest of mast
She can conquer the calm snd rally the blast;
But fuel is costly! Coal beavers avast!
All, those ebony heaps that curnber the hold
Can never be reeKoned in silver and gold
Ten lives to the ton, and an anguish untold
Alas fos the lack OF a handful of Goals;
Alas for the ship that is haunted with souls;
Alas for the bell that eternally tolls
All abord, my hne fellowsi cup anchor." the
All, never again shall that order be heard,
For two worlds VIII be mourning ye gone to third
To the trumpet of March Wild galiops the sea;
The white-crested troopers are under the lee
Old World and New world and soul World are three
0reat garments of rain wrap the desolate night;
Sweet Heaven disastered is lost TO the sight;
% Atlantic crash on in the pride Of thy might,
With thy look-out's dim cry One O'Clock and all
rightlH
10, down with the hatches! The Seas come
aboard
All together they come like 8 passionate word
Like pirates that put every soul to the sword!
Their black Dag all aboard makes murky the air;
But the ship parts the night as maiden her haIr-
Through and through the thick gloom, from land
o land there.
Like the shuttle that weaves for mourner to wear
Good night, proud " Atlantic!" One tick of the
And staggering craunoh and shivering shock
'Tis the flint and the steel! ris the ship and the
rocki
Deathless sparks are struck out from the bosoms Of
From the stout hearts of manhood in scintiIant
Liks the stars of the Gag when the banner unfurls
What hundreds went VI, unto God in their sleep!
What hundreds in agony bafiied the deep
Nobody to pray and nobody to weep!
Alas for the flag Of the single +" White Star"
With light pale and cold as the woman's hands are
Who froze in the shrouds, flashed her jewels afar,
Lost her hold on the world and then clEtched at a
spar!
God of mercy and grace How the bubbles come up
With souls from the revel who stayed not to suP;
Death drank the last toast aud then shattered the
Cup!
Who crushed those poor hearts that wild terrors
environ
Atlantic Of water? Atlantic of iron
The den where they bearded the granite old lion7
The God of the sparrow? breath from Mount
Zion?
Bring the World into court! Bid the verdict be
.To this true words xe render, resistlessy driven
And 50 say we all-Not Guilty, fore Heaven|
Poor handful Of carbon Cali hunanity's roll
For the fellow who thought " All, how costly is
He looses who bids o,,y price for1ris souIi
And Christ died for this man-ths pitfuf crea ture
Made like the noblest in fashion and feature
Saint John the BELOVED and the Wilderness Preacher!
Too sordid for soul and too subtle for sod,
And leave the new Cain and his brother with God
In the clash of the leaves of the frantic woods,
And the turbulent whirl Of the angry foods,
And the rumble and roar of the cloudy broods,
In the height of the storm you have sometimes
The rnelodious voice of an unseen bird,
And so clear and so brave that your heart was
stirred
It seemed to be Faith set anew to a song,
That the weakest of things may never fear wrong,
If they only believe in the true and the strong.
In that bitter storm when the plunge of the wrecl
Tossed the white forms at viii that were strewing
As the foan-fakes are tossed on warehouses; neck
And men growing dim in their hunger for life,
And husband IN frenzy abandoning wife
To struggle alone in the desperate strife.
Then voice brave and young rose sweet through
the din
81 Lend hand I'm alone with a lifetime to win =
Twas the song Of an angel rebulng the sin.
Then the brute that's in men skunk back to its lair
Strong fingers we're wound in the boys curly hair
- Pass the lad right along! My chance he shall
shareI :"
Well done, little John! For you smote their left
flank,
And summoned them back to the heroes front
rank;
Mid death and disaster, John Henly we thanki