The record-union., 1893-05-13
THE HOPE OF AYR.
BY RALPH TURNER.1

shrouded the mountain hight,
Spread slowly under the azure sky till day
seemed merged i'll night;
And the filtered sunbeams pale and wan like
the callow moon $ rays seemed
ANA on many nUontide festal board the
lamps of evening cleaned;
And the crescent bav's bright laughing waves
grew sullen and still with dread,
As the demon storm kings cohorts massed
their forces overhead.
\ ct the merry surf sang u canzonet rs it
swept Ger the coral bar.
And the channel beacon, day and night,
shone bright as the PolluX star.
On the quay at midday n merchant stood
and scanned the troubled sea;
"Dlay the God OF the mariner shield front
- harm the Hope of Ayr" prayed he.
"The Hope of Ayr is Indian teak and swift
and stanch ana true;
She has weathered the Indian Oceans gales
with half OF her present crew;
She has sailed the Tagus and Amazon and
Behring's icy seas.
Braved Polar tempests and hurricanes that
rage round the Hebrides.
Yet my heart is heavy with nameess dread
as that stOrm-tilled sky view
For tue Hope of Ayr, my star of hope, is five
weeks overdue.
Yet not Tor the wealth the vessel bears are my
hopes and fears to-day,
Tho laden with costly merchandise from the
marts Of far Cathay;
There are slken fabrics from famous looms
and porcelain service rare
And let-veined marbles, and antique bronze,
and jewels "a queen might wear.
Quaint ivory trinkets from Afric lands and
curios in gold,
Araby's perfumes and CeylOn spice all rest in
my vessels hold;
Yet not for all this princely wealth are my
anxious fears, said he,
"For she bears the rose of womanhood, my
bride that is to be-
Her starry orbs are as softly black as the fur
seals gentle eyes,
And her checks have stolen the roseate tints
of AurOra'S blushing skies.
Her hair like the heath-cocks sable wing or
the ebOn plumes of night,
Is a Jet black luStrOuS coronal DER Queenly
brow snow-white;
Her pure lips shame the brightest hues Of a
ruby coral spray,
And her voice is as low and sweet and clear
as the Persian bUl-bu's lay;
And the modest grace OF the palm that bends
to the south winds coy caress,
Is Stella's own, bat more to me than hCr mar
velous lovelinesS.
Is the pure and fervid and constant love my
darling brings to me,
May God, in His mercy, shield from harm the
Hope OF Ayr" prayed he.
III.
A suIlen murmur of rushing wind and a dash
of rain from the clouds,
And the seas wild waves came sweeping in in
their eerie ioamy Shrouds,
Came shrieking over the coral bar and through
the crescent bay,
And madly plunging upon the strand in
sheets OF snowy spray.
And fiercer the wind each moment blew and
the ram came driving down,
Till the wreck Of plants and the limbs of trees
lay thick in the startled town.
And the surf on the bar, like q raging fiend,
screamed out its wild despair,
AS the warning peals of the beacon's bell,
storm-voiced, rang through the air
Far on the horizons murky verge dim and
trembling light,
Like the tg,,us Jaiuus spectral lay, now seen,
now hidden quite,
Came family flashing It's message dread to the
anxious eyes on shore;
Then the pilot, bent with the weight of years,
said: The boy my dead wife bore,
The pride of my prime and the hope of my
aye is voyGging over the sea,
In an o'erdue frigate-the Hope of Ayr-God
grant it is not She"
".
Like the van of an army beaten back flock
of phetonss few,
A snowy host presaging death as they swiftly
swept from view;
For the pilot said: when the phgtons fly to
the hills from the seas mad waves
The sharks shall banquet on living men and
none may count the graves
And he turned his glass with a troubled gaze
TO the light on the oceans verge,
For the surf on the bar and the beacon's bell
seemed chanting a funeral dirge.
AS the fated ship still nearer drove before the
fearful gale
The pilot staggered and dropped the glass and
his cheek grew deathly pale;
And the merchant shreked: "What is it you
see? Speak Speak, man, II you dare ~
''NIy God" cried the pilot, 81 fear she is lost
IT'S the HOpe-tne Rope OF Ayr,
Her mastS are gone. and helmless hulk she
is flying before the gale.
AS swift as though every yard was set and
crowded with snowy sail
Straight on and ON, as ii demon hands were
grasping phantom wheel,
And steering the ship where the foaming
surge the coral reefs revcalr'
"Out with the boats ~ the merchant cried,
"And thousand guineas are thine!
A thousand guineas apiece TO the crew that
takes to the Hope a linei
And thrice q thousand to that brave crew
that brings my bride to me.
Safe from the perils that round her rage on
that sorm-lashed, angry seau'
Said the pilot: My son and his wife are
there on the fated ship we see,
And dearer far than the wealth of Ind Is my
dead wiieS BOY TO me;
But never q boat that ever was launched or
manned by a human crew,
Could live for an hour in that raging sea and
bring your love TO you,
And naught can your golden brbe avail; YOU
must bow to the Christening rod,
And trust your bride as | trust my boy, to
the care of a mercituI Cod"
By this the night was coming fast and the
cloud-draped westering sun
Was nearing the Occident Sunderland where
the Orient dawn had begun;
And straining their eyes through the deepen
ing gloom they saw the Hope OF Ayr,
With a shuddering thrill of her strong teak
frame in human like despair,
Plunge on the reef where the bIlows broke
into clouds of snowy foam,
The prey of the sea she had braved so long,
and only league from home;
Only a Ieaguel And strong men wept in help
less, blind despair,
As the waves swept over the battered hulk
that once was the Hope OF Ayr.
At last, like q veil, the merciful dusk hid tho
stranded ship from view;
But stormier still through the nights long
hours the frenZicd ocean grew,
And when from the mourning couch of night
the dawn crept cold and gray,
The wreck of the bOnny Hope OF 4 yr Strewcd
the shores OF the crescent bay.
And the merchant seeking his dear dead love
and the pilot his sons cold clay,
On their errand dread in search of their dead,
met at the break OF day.
And 10 on the sands were bodies twain, closes
clasped in last embrace;
Maiden and man lying side by side with O
smile on each dead face.
And the merchant sobbed as he knelt by tha
maid: This was my promised bride.'
''Nay," said the pilot, my dead sons wife fob
a year before they died;
They were voyaging home with their little
babe-a mother and wife was she."
"'Tis false p cried the merchant. This vir.
gin clay borne here by the cruel sea
Was my own true love-my bride betrothed-4
home-bound In the Hope OF Ayr"
And the pilot answered "His vile was she
whose dead arms clasp her there"
And near from his heart he a portrait drew,
saying, ''rhis was the bride be Won"
And the merchant groaued as he gaZed on the
face. my love and his bride are one"
Then he kissed again the clay-cold lips, say
ing, "Thus do pardon thee;
Living or dead, or false or true, thou vast
dearer than life 10 me;
And may not judge lest be judged by the
Judge of the Nest High,
SO my dear dead love and the man she loved
in a mutual grave shall lie,
There TO await the Judgment Day when each
shall claim hls own
When everyone who hath sown a wrong shall
reap as he hath sown."
Honolulu, 1893.
sThe "tropic bird"-PhRton phoenic7u7ls Of
the NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. TO mariners a9