The 'Mary Ross'

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'What was the hardest hour’, you ask,  
 ‘Ever I had at sea?’  
There was that in the wreck of the Mary Ross  
 Is bitten into me.  

Five merry weeks of sun and speed,  
 A ship well mann’d and stout—  
One hour from home she falter’d, stopp’d  
 Short … and the lights went out.  

What follow’d—O just-dealing God,  
 How firm must be Thy mind,  
Such a beginning to have given  
 And such an end design’d!  

…Sudden, from human eyes and hands  
 And kindred human breath,  
Into the wild black Void, into  
 The unthought-on fangs of Death…  

…The bitter cold was all—then breath  
 Again, and something cross’d  
My clutching fingers; with a spar  
 Now was I driven and toss’d.  

Where were the rest? My strain’d ear caught  
 No answer … Dazed and stark,  
Moments it may have been, or hours,  
 Dash’d thro’ the roaring dark.  

I thought that I must have traversed Time  
 And touch’d Eternity,  
When, high in the air, a cry, a wail:  
 ‘I am afraid! Save me!’  

And yonder!—Oh what ’s that blacker black  
 Bulged out upon the gloom?  
By the glint of the whirling spray I saw  
 Her lifted stern-post loom.  

‘Save me!’ Oh what ’s yon whiter speck  
 O’er the yeasty glimmer wild?  
Terribly flashed the hasty moon  
 On—the face of a little child!  

Back chased the blessed dark—but, oh!  
 I’d seen! Aye, all too clear  
I see her still—the piteous mouth,  
 The great eyes fixt with fear.  

Not an hour since upon my knee  
 Her good-night pranks were play’d,  
And now—to face Death … and alone…  
 God! and afraid? ‘Afraid!’  

Oh, I cried from the trough—I promised her  
 The help that I could not give.  
The wind drove back my words—the waves  
 Drove on their fugitive.  

‘Somebody save me!’ And again  
 For one mad second’s space,  
’Mid the rushing rack the quiet moon,  
 ’Mid the wide void, that face!  

And she saw me! Great Heaven, she smiled!  
 Stretch’d out her arms and cried,  
‘Save me!’ and half my name—and then…  
 Then she was pacified.  

For … a swirl … a suck … when next I rose,  
 Naught, save the stormy roar!  
Down in the darkness I thank’d God.  
 She was afraid no more.

© Blanche Edith Baughan