THE SHIP by JOHN WILSON (1785-1854)

AND lo! upon the murmuring waves
A glorious shape appearing!
A broad-wing'd vessel, through the shower
Of glimmering lustre steering!
As if the beauteous ship enjoy'd
The beauty of the sea,
She lifteth up her stately head
And saileth joyfully.
A lovely path before her lies,
A lovely path behind;
She sails amidst the loveliness
Like a thing with heart and mind.
Fit pilgrim through a scene so fair,
Slowly she beareth on;
A glorious phantom of the deep,
Risen up to meet the moon.
The moon bids her tenderest radiance fall
On her wavy streamer and snow-white wings
And the quiet voice of the rocking sea
To cheer the gliding vision sings.
Oh! ne'er did sky and water blend
In such a holy sleep,
Or bathe in brighter quietude
A roamer of the deep.
So far the peaceful soul of heaven
Hath settled on the sea,
It seems as if this weight of calm
Were from eternity.
O world of waters! the steadfast earth
Ne'er lay entranced like thee!
Is she a vision wild and bright,
That sails amid the still moonlight
At the dreaming soul's command?
A vessel borne by magic gales,
All rigg'd with gossamery sails,
And bound for fairy-land?
Ah, no! -- an earthly freight she bears,
Of joys and sorrows, hopes and fears;
And lonely as she seems to be,
Thus left by herself on the moonlight sea
In loneliness that rolls,
She hath a constant company,
In sleep, or waking revelry,
Five hundred human souls!
Since first she sail'd from fair England,
Three moons her path have cheer'd:
And another lights her lovelier lamp
Since the Cape hath disappear'd.
For an Indian isle she shapes her way
With constant mind both night and day:
She seems to hold her home in view
And sails, as if the path she knew;
So calm and stately is her motion
Across the unfathom'd trackless ocean.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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