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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408336" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Intaglio - Frank Denz</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the roar of the storm, in the wild bitter voice of the tempest-whipped sea,<br>The cry of my darling, my child, comes ever and ever to me;<br>And I stand where the haggard-faced wood stares down on a sinister shore,<br>But all that is left is the hood of the babe I can cherish no more.<br>A little blue hood, with the shawl of the girl that I took for my wife<br>In a happy old season, is all that remains of the light of my life;<br>The wail of a woman in pain, and the sob of a smothering bird,<br>They come through the darkness again —<br>in the wind and the rain they are heard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, women and men who have known the perils of weather and wave,<br>It is sad that my sweet ones are blown under sea without shelter of grave;<br>I sob like a child in the night, when the gale on the waters is loud —<br>My darlings went down in my sight, with neither a coffin nor shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the whistle of wind, and the whirl of ominous fragments of wreck,<br>The wife, with her poor little girl, saw death on the lee of the deck;<br>But, sirs, she depended on me — she trusted my comforting word;<br>She is down in the depths of the sea — my love, with her beautiful bird.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the boat I was ordered to go — I was not more afraid than the rest,<br>But a husband will falter, you know, with the love of his life at his breast;<br>My captain was angry a space, but soon he grew tender in tone —<br>Perhaps there had flashed by his face a wife and a child of his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was weak for some moments, and cried; but only one hope was in life;<br>The hood upon baby I tied — I fastened the shawl on my wife.<br>The skipper took charge of the child — he stuck to his word till the last;<br>But only this hood on the wild, bitter shore of the sea had been cast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the place of a coward, who shook like a leaf in the quivering boat,<br>A seat by the rowlocks I took; but the sea had me soon by the throat,<br>The surge gripped me fast by the neck — in a ring, and a roll, and a roar,<br>I was cast like a piece of the wreck, on a bleak, beaten, shelterless shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there were my darlings on board for the rest of that terrible day,<br>And I watched and I prayed to the Lord, as never before I could pray.<br>The windy hills stared at the black, heavy clouds coming over the wave;<br>My girl was expecting me back, but where was my power to save?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! where was my power, when Death was glaring at me from the reef?<br>I cried till I gasped for my breath, aloof with a maddening grief.<br>We couldn’t get back to the deck: I wanted to go, but the sea<br>Dashed over the sides of the wreck, and carried my darling from me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, girl that I took by the hand to the altar two summers ago,<br>I would you were buried on land — my dear, it would comfort me so!<br>I would you were sleeping where grows the grass and the musical reed!<br>For how can you find a repose in the toss of the tangle and weed?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The night sped along, and I strained to the shadow and saw to the end<br>My captain and bird — he remained to the death a superlative friend:<br>In the face of the hurricane wild, he clung with the babe to the mast;<br>To the last he was true to my child — he was true to my child to the last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind, like a life without home, comes mocking at door and at pane<br>In the time of the cry of the foam — in the season of thunder and rain,<br>And, dreaming, I start in the bed, and feel for my little one’s brow —<br>But lost is the beautiful head; the cradle is tenantless now!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My home was all morning and glow when wife and her baby were there,<br>But, ah! it is saddened, you know, by dresses my girl used to wear.<br>I cannot re-enter the door; its threshold can never be crossed,<br>For fear I should see on the floor the shoes of the child I have lost.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were three of us once in the world; but two are deep down in the sea,<br>Where waif and where tangle are hurled — the two that were portions of me;<br>They are far from me now, but I hear, when hushed are the night and the tide,<br>The voice of my little one near — the step of my wife by my side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408336" data-title="Intaglio - Frank Denz de Henry Kendall" data-description="In the roar of the storm, in the wild bitter voice of the tempest-whipped sea,
The cry of my darling, my child, comes ever and ever to me;
And I stand where the haggard-faced wood stares down on a sinister shore,
But all that is left is the hood o..."></div>
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