IT was off the cliffs of Scituate, In old Massachusetts Bay, We took a stiff northeaster, About the break of day; Lord! how it howled and whistled Through the ratlines and the shrouds, As the icy snow dashed pelting Through the scud of lowering clouds! Outspoke then our bold captain, -- "She fairly drifts astern; Against this gale no Boston Can the good barque make, this turn; To beach her were but madness, Where the wild surf runs so high, -- Under our lee lies Scituate, And there we can but try." Then "Hard up!" cried the captain, -- Like a bird she bore away, The blast just struck her quarter, And she flew across the bay; Before us broke the dreaded bar, And by the helmsman stood Our captain, as the brave barque plunged Into the foam-tossed flood. One plunge! the strong wave lifted her, -- Aghast stood all the crew! Again, -- she rose upon the surge, -- And it brought her safely through. Now, God bless Scituate Harbor, And be blessed forevermore, Who saved us from the sea's cold clasp, By that wild, treacherous shore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ANNIVERSARY [ANNIVERSARIE] by JOHN DONNE THE RHODORA: ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by RALPH WALDO EMERSON BEN BOLT by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH DOROTHY Q; A FAMILY PORTRAIT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES WRITTEN [OR LINES] IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM by THOMAS HOOD TURN O LIBERTAD by WALT WHITMAN WATER WOMAN by JOSEPH AUSLANDER |