Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1912-05-06


bred we're on board Mothers were
there with their children newly born:
maidens were there upon whose fair
heads had blown the pleasant winds Of
France, and in whose eyes were the
light If English summers; youth stood
upon the promenade deck looking far
into the future. With hope that had up
ON its wings the morning and the sun
rise: manhood's staiwart faith gazed
calmly on the azure face of the eternal
ocean. and listened To the Voices Of the
tide IS one hears soft music in u
dream; beauty fingered late among the
happy hours that HAD for selaee mer-
riinent aud laughter; and MI lie stars
we're kind and all the elm lights that
danced along the deer took mermaid
shapes and whirled and sported round
the ship rs though t'were sailing in
among the islands of the blessed. Blithe
battle blowing all about the sunny
slopes of France and in amid tive yiue
leaVes aud the Vines as running wa
tcs. took eyes and hearts from the
ocean bird sailing grandly on 10 her IN
articulate death. Was there any storm,
clothed With the wind and hurricane,
that grappled and overthrew the yes
sci? Nobody knows. bid the fiery
lightning run along the spars and light
the sails and shrouds and hull for fn
neral pvreo The ehb and flow Of
moon-made tides carry no messages
back To either shore. oh, il MAS piti=
fui. that deatli--alene. alone. all alone
alone on the wide, wide sea" Some
died and made no moan. Some must
have fioafesl with drenehed. loose arms
lung wide apart and smiles of child
hood III the wan. thin faces. Was the
night breeding upon the water, moon
less and starless2 Gould a south wind
have blown. perfumed with land oaors.
only to bring the skeleton reaper and
the pitiless storm What said all the
beautiful maidens in deaths broken
and touching talk? Were not the moth
ers' eyes more steadfast Than any
there. and wore not her PRAYERS more
holy and fervent as she lifted her face
to heavcn-a face that bore a living
| likeness to the fair haired hpy IN
tears upon her hosom9 Was ii morp
ing when the good shin went down.
and had the night. like corpse aban-
donng a bier, stolen The shroud from.
| the face of the ocean, In all the lost
three hundred. was there one 10 whom
death came as a benediction-one that
smiled swoetlv as the angry. crawling
| waves cane up the oakon ribs, and
| murmnred YEARLY and wistfnlly fe
ears that could not hear:
Fair mother. fed with the lives of men.
Thou are subtle and cruel of heart. mel
Thou has taken. and shat not render
again:
Thou art fun of thy dead. and cold as
But death is the worst that comes Of
4 thee:
Thou art fed with our dead. o, Mother
But when hast thou fed on our hears Of
when.
Having given us love hast thou taken
| aWaN2
| oh, but nothing mangles, and rend'
and devours like the sea. 1t laughs with
/ Unsuitable lips and comes to its prey
| screened by the zephyrs and by grae-
| ions and temperate airs. The clouds
and the waves conspire. There is 9
| gulf in the sky and a gulf In the ocear
and ali between is the freighted bark
! having frail things and beautiful
| things for cargo and ballast. run from
| hillow to billow, and a great noise is
heard as of agony and fear. and hard
hestead and hunted like Wounded
stricken thing. the good ship, City ol
| Boston, went down and left no piece ol
| wreck no spar, no white face swollen
| with the sleep of death. no bonnie
| tress of hair ceiled about end tangled
| with seaweed no broken and battered
boat, no whisper in wind or air 10 tell
how the wild waves went over all.
| There are hearts vet in the old world
and the new that are listening for the
| signal guns which tell Of her o'iins
| truly made and her anchors fast in the
| harbor Of repcse The laughing morn
| mig winds. fed with the dew and the
sunrise have tripped over the grave OF
the wreck and when they had passed
| the sea wore its placid smile. and there
were no murmurs TO tell Of the 800
| sleeping peacefully beneath The hur-
ricane and the tempest have rocked
| them down amid the coral caves of old
ocean. but no dreams come to the eter-
nal slumber and no noises entered iite
| the everlasting rest. 1t il best So
| Poor finite souls that only feel hove
ceaseless vigils and stretch in vain The
longing arms of hopeless SORROW thihe
| little Of the faith which bids them
! weep no more and pray tor Eope iine
consolation. The morning brings ne
ship and night no dear ones 10 INC
home hearth swept since the day 81
| sailing. Ii can not be that the secrets
lof the drowned must remain forever "
/ the iuiexorable bosom OF the sea. SFre-
~ some wave viii bear them shore
| ward. some drift take them out TO the
| islands where summer is eternal ane
where shipwreclss never come9'-.ldts