Adventure on a Raft
The following adventure happened in the experience of an
Ingersoll man.
' Truth is strange, stranger than fiction.'
A man rafting down the river,
Time he will remember ever,
He shouted, ' Pole, the raft to land,
Or we'll be wrecked upon the strand.'
But captain gave him a reply
That all danger he would defy ;
But, in another moment more
Part was wrecked upon the shore
Of a Nova Scotian bay ;
The other half was borne away.
Enough to make a person shiver,
Man was drifted out of river,
All alone on the broken raft,
Driven where e'er the wind did waft ;
Right out on the open sea,
Where the storm did blow so free.
No shelter from the wind or wave,
He thought the gulf would be his grave.
He had no food, life to sustain,
He laid him down, there to remain.
What happened he did know no more,
But old man on Prince Edwards shore,
While gazing through his good spy glass,
' What do I see?' he cried, ' Alas !
Some poor man, and I fear he's dead,
Drifting to my humble shed.'
The body acted like a sail,
And wafted raft before the gale;
He called on men to man a boat,
And quickly crew had it afloat,
And in haste full soon they bore
His lifeless body to the shore.
But old man did them then desire
To place body near the fire,
And wrap it up in blankets warm-
Which did act like to a charm-
soon the breath it did return.
With gratitude his heart did burn,
To think he was again restored
Unto his friends, whom he adored;
But worse misfortunes him befell,
Yet he bears up 'neath troubles well.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Kessack Ferry-Boat Fatality
'Twas on Friday the 2nd of March, in the year of 1894,
That the Storm Fiend did loudly laugh and roar
Along the Black Isle and the Kessack Ferry shore,
Whereby six men were drowned, which their friends will deplore.
The accident is the most serious that has occurred for many years,
And their relatives no doubt will shed many tears,
Because the accident happened within 200 yards of the shore,
While Boreas he did loudly rail and roar.
The ferry-boat started from the north or Black Isle,
While the gusty gales were blowing all the while
From the south, and strong from the south-west,
And to get to land fclie crew tried their utmost best.
The crew, however, were very near the land,
When the gusts rose such as no man could withstand,
With such force that the ferry-boat flew away
From her course, down into the little bay,
Which opens into the Moray Firth and the river Ness,
And by this time the poor men were in great distress,
And they tried again and again to get back to the pier,
And to save themselves from being drowned they began to fear.
And at last the poor men began to despair,
And they decided to drop anchor where they were,
While the Storm Fiend did angry roar,
And the white-crested billows did lash the shore.
And the water poured in, but was baled out quickly,
And the men's clothes were wet, and they felt sickly,
Because they saw no help in the distance,
Until at last they blew the fog-horn for assistance.
And quickly in response to their cry of distress,
Four members of the coastguard, in coastguard dreys,
Whose station overlooked the scene, put off in a small boat,
And with a desperate struggle they managed to keep her afloat.
Then the coastguards and boat drifted rapidly away,
Until they found themselves in the little bay,
Whilst the big waves washed o'er them, again and again,
And they began to think their struggling was all in vain.
But they struggled on manfully until they came upon a smaller boat,
Which they thought would be more easily kept afloat,
And to which the hawser was soon transferred,
Then for a second time to save the ferrymen all was prepared.
Then the coastguards drifted down alongside the ferry-boat,
And with great difficulty they kept themselves afloat,
Because the big waves were like mountains high,
Yet the coastguards resolved to save the ferrymen or die.
Then at last the ferrymen got into the coastguard boat,
And they all toiled manfully to keep her afloat,
Until she was struck as she rose on the crest of the wave,
Then each one tried hard his life to save.
And the poor men's hearts with grief were rent,
For they were thrown into the merciless sea in a moment,
And out of the eight men two have been saved,
All owing to their swimming abilities, and how they behaved.
Oh! it must have been a fearful sight,
To see them striving hard with all their might
To save themselves from a watery grave,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh and angry did rave.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Temple Is Not A Temple Of Selfishness
this is my body
this is my temple
this is where my spirit lives
in flesh and bones
this is my face
this is my skin
these are my feelings
these are my hopes and aspirations
now touch me
now let your fingers run over my skin
let me feel you too
like i am no longer an island
a body of water
a river a sea where boats always sail away from me
where birds just pass and fly by
destined for another place to another shore to another bush
this is my body this is desire this is hunger and thirst and longing
feed me with your body
satisfy my thirst
fill my longings with your longings too
let your river chain my body
let your sea fill my land let your skies be above to wrap me
to shelter me to fill me also with more stars and moons and suns
let me not be all alone like a space without anything without a flicker
let me become a universe glowing and hushing and lushing with life
this is my body this is your body too
let us breathe let us touch let us push through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drifting Too Far
Out on the perilous deep,
Where danger silently creeps,
And storm's so violently sweeping,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Chorus:
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Today, the Tempest rose high,
And clouds o'er shadow the sky.
Sure death is hovering neigh,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Why meet a terrible fate?
Mercies abundantly wait.
Turn back before it's too late
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore
You're drifting too far from shore (peaceful shore)
Come to Jesus today. Let him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Andrew
Air -- "Gypsy's Warning"
Andrew was a little infant,
And his life was two years old;
He was his parents' eldest boy,
And he was drowned, I was told.
His parents never more can see him
In this world of grief and pain,
And Oh! they will not forget him
While on earth they do remain.
On one bright and pleasant morning
His uncle thought it would be nice
To take his dear little nephew
Down to play upon a raft,
Where he was to work upon it,
An this little child would company be --
The raft the water rushed around it,
Yet he the danger did not see.
This little child knew no danger --
Its little soul was free from sin --
He was looking in the water,
When, alas, this child fell in.
Beneath the raft the water took him,
For the current was so strong,
And before they could rescue him
He was drowned and was gone.
Oh! how sad were his kind parents
When they saw their drowned child,
As they brought him from the water,
It almost made their hearts grow wild.
Oh! how mournful was the parting
From that little infant son.
Friends, I pray you, all take warning,
Be careful of your little ones.
poem by Julia A Moore
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When my body arrives at the shore
When the time comes.
And my body washes up on the shore.
Be it not a shock to you please.
I didn't want tohurt you.
When my bloated body arrives at deaths shore.
Washed up and battered I'm dead on the shore.
And have arrived at deaths door.
Yes I was scared kind of.
But I knew it would over and done.
I knew it wouldn't be long to die.
Here lays my body at deaths shore.
I am dead of that you can be sure.
I am sorry of that you are to be sure.
I loved you that's for sure.
I could'nt stay with pains shore.
So Here I am at deaths shore.
I couldn't go on like this.
Here I lay washed up on the shore.
Iam now in deaths door
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To what shore would you cross
To what shore would you cross,
O my heart?
there is no traveller before you,
there is no road:
Where is the movement,
where is the rest,
on that shore?
There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there;
There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it.
No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford!
There, there is neither body nor mind:
and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul?
You shall find naught in that emptiness.
Be strong, and enter into your own body:
for there your foothold is firm.
Consider it well,
O my heart!
go not elsewhere,
Kabîr says: 'Put all imaginations away,
and stand fast in that which you are.'
The Terrific Cyclone of 1893
'Twas in the year of 1893, and on the 17th and 18th of November,
Which the people of Dundee and elsewhere will long remember,
The terrific cyclone that blew down trees,
And wrecked many vessels on the high seas.
All along the coast the Storm Fiend did loudly roar,
Whereby many ships were wrecked along the shore,
And many seamen lost their lives,
Which caused their children to mourn and their wives.
Alas! they wiil never see their husbands again,
And to weep for them 'tis all in vain,
Because sorrow never could revive the dead,
Therefore they must weep, knowing all hope is fled.
The people's hearts in Dundee were full of dread
For fear of chimney-cans falling on their heads,
And the roofs of several houses were hurled to the ground,
And the tenants were affrighted, and their sorrow was profound,
And scores of wooden sheds were levelled to the ground,
And chimney stalks fell with a crashing rebound :
The gale swept everything before it in its way;
No less than 250 trees and 37 tombstones were blown down at Balgay.
Oh! it was a pitiful and a terrible sight
To see the fallen trees lying left and right,
Scattered about in the beautiful Hill of Balgay,
Also the tombstones that were swept away.
At Broughty Ferry the gale made a noise like thunder,
Which made the inhabitants shake with fear and wonder
If their dwellings would be blown to the ground,
While the slates and chimney-cans were falling all around.
Early on the 18th a disaster occurred on the Tay :
The wreck of the steamer "Union,"- Oh! horror and dismay!
Whereby four lives have been taken away,
Which will make their friends mourn for many a day.
The steamer left Newburgh for Dundee with a cargo of sand,
And the crew expected they would safely land,
But by the time the steamer was opposite Dundee,
Alas! stronger blew the gale, and heavier grew the sea.
And in order to prevent stranding the anchor was let go,
And with the cold the hearts of the crew were full of woe,
While the merciless Storm .Fiend loudly did roar,
As the vessel was driven towards the Fife shore.
Then the crew took shelter in the stokehole,
From the cold wind they could no longer thole,
But the high seas broke over her, one finding its way
Right into the stokehole, which filled the crew's hearts with dismay.
Then one of the crew, observing that the steamer had broached to,
Immediately went on deck to see what he could do,
And he tried hard to keep her head to the sea,
But the big waves dashed over her furiously.
Then Strachan shouted that the "Union" was sinking fast,
Which caused his companions to stand aghast,
And Strachan tried to lower the small boat,
But alas! the vessel sunk, and the boat wouldn't float,
And before he could recover himself he was struggling in the sea,
And battling with the big waves right manfully,
But his companions sank with the "Union" in the Tay,
Which filled Strachan's heart with sorrow and dismay,
And after a great struggle he reached the beach,
Fortunately so, which he never expected to reach,
For often he was drawn back by the back-wash,
As the big waves against his body did dash.
But, when nearly exhausted, and near to the land,
A piece of wreckage was near him, which he grasped with his hand,
Which providentially came within his reach,
And bruised, and battered, he was thrown on the beach.
He was so exhausted, he was unable to stand upright,
He felt so weakly, he was in such a plight,
Because the big waves had done him bodily harm,
Yet on hands and knees he crept to a house at Northfield farm.
He arrived there at ten minutes past four o'clock,
And when he awakened the inmates, their nerves got a shock,
But under their kind treatment he recovered speedily,
And was able to recount the disaster correctly.
Oh! it was a fearful, and a destructive storm!
I never mind the like since I was born,
Only the Tay Bridge storm of 1879,
And both these storms will be remembered for a very long time.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Boat
Were sailing on a strange boat
Heading for a strange shore
Were sailing on a strange boat
Heading for a strange shore
Carrying the strangest cargo
That was ever hauled aboard
Were sailing on a strange sea
Blown by a strange wind
Were sailing on a strange sea
Blown by a strange wind
Carrying the strangest crew
That ever sinned
Were riding in a strange car
Were followin a strange star
Were climbing on the strangest ladder
That was ever there to climb
Were living in a strange time
Working for a strange goal
Were living in a strange time
Working for a strange goal
Were turning flesh and body
Into soul
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A River For Him
(emmylou harris)
I crossed on the river
Therell be no returning
I crossed all the bridges
I watched them all burning
And now Im a stranger
To a strange land Im driven
Where all is forgotten
And nothings forgiven
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
I think of him now
On the road I am taking
And wonder how long
His heart will be breaking
But hell never hear when
The teardrops are falling
Or the sound of my voice
And the name Im calling
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
So sweep for the sons
And the dear darling daughters
For the passing of time
And the parting of waters
For all who have passed through
This world long before me
To a far distant shore line
Where no one waits for me
But I cried a river
A river for him
Thats deeper and wider
Than Ill ever swim
The heart it will harden
The sorrow will dim
But I cried a river
A river for him
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drifting Too Far From The Shore
(traditional)
Out on the perilous deep,
Where danger silently creeps,
And storms so violently sweeping,
Youre drifting too far from shore.
Chorus: drifting too far from shore,
Youre drifting too far from shore,
Come to jesus today,
Let him show you the way.
Youre drifting too far from shore,
Today, the tempest rose high,
And clouds oershadow the sky.
Sure death is hovering nigh,
Youre drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore,
Youre drifting too far from shore,
Come to jesus today,
Let him show you the way.
Youre drifting too far from shore,
Why meet a terrible fate?
Mercies abundantly wait.
Turn back before its too late
Youre drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore
Youre drifting too far from shore (peaceful shore)
Come to jesus today. let him show you the way
Youre drifting too far from shore.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Boat To Cairo
Night boat to cairo !!.....
Its just gone noon
Half past monsoon
On the banks of the river nile
Here comes the boat
Only half-afloat
Oarsman grins a toothless smile
Only just one more
To this desolate shore
Last boat along the river nile
Doesnt seem to care
No more wind in his hair
As he reaches his last half mile
The oar snaps in his hand
Before he reaches dry land
But the sound doesnt deafen his smile
Just pokes at wet sand
With an oar in his hand
Floats off down the river nile
Floats off down the river nile
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The Wind...
Stranger in the wind...
Beckons at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Wanting even more.
Stranger in the wind...
Hard to really ignore.
Stranger in the wind..
Making my heart ache, as sore.
Stranger in the wind...
Rapping at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Who knows i am so poor.
Stranger in the wind...
My time here-has me bore...
Many aches and pains of a thirsting heart...
Can only be quenched by ye, your remembered part.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart, you'll win.
Stranger in the wind...
Yon soul so deep.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart you'll keep.
Stranger in the wind...
my soul you'll reap.
Stranger in the wind...
You make me weep.
poem by Michael Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger On The Shore Of Love
The curtain goes up
The first act begins
The scene is two people in love
Lovely is she, lucky feels he
She smiles in his eyes
He smiles in her eyes
They both vow love never to part
One sight for all, lovers to see
A perfect love story begins
til insecurity sets in
What happens then is, one aching heart
Oh, I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I can tell you that I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
A table for two
Love vows of I do
A honeymoon out of a dream
Who could ask for, anything more
A home on a hill
With love daffodils
And cold winter nights by the fire
What more could be, for she and he
Theres more than enough love and yet
She or he starts feeling regret
What do you get, one broken heart
Oh, I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I can tell you from experience I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a-a-a-oh, oh, oh
Oh, I dont wanna be, please dont let me be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart, na, na, na, na, na
I dont wanna be no, dont let me be no
No, no, no with tears
I dont wanna have an upset stomach from a broken heart, baby
I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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the Fisherman
THE FISHERMAN
All his life in his sun-burnt boat he is out there
on the sea,
To eke out an honest living with his catches at
sea!
The sea is his second home, where his soul
breathes free!
The sea remain placid, the sea remain calm,
Rocking his boat gently like a mother patting
her son!
But when the sea raves and foams in the mouth,
The fisherman calmly surveys the distant storm
clouds!
He silently sets sail towards the safe shore;
Though at times he boldly tries to ignore!
And should his boat overturn and capsize below,
His mother will keep him afloat - as he swims
to the shore!
-Raj Nandy
27 Mar 09
Sea Of Dead Ships
A light from heaven flickers gently on the waves.
As a boat rocks merrily, above a sea of dead men’s graves.
Colours of the rainbows, spread fingers from the shore.
The sea is filled with beauty; it is also filled with lore.
Waves of blue, waves of green cause white waters on a rocky shore.
While the warming sun’s silvery gleam, heals any wanton sore.
Fishing boats, sails afloat, challenge the sparkling foam.
While everyman with heart lured by the sea, tries desperately not to roam.
The sea is my mistress, the sea is my light.
On a cold day’s darkness, the moon must guide me by night.
A sea full of temptation, a sea full of woe.
I set my sails a flight, to meet my friend or foe.
Dark storm clouds gather overhead, waves pound at my wooden boat.
I feel the cold salty shower, fighting wind and tide to keep afloat.
Rigging is now tangled, mast breaks leaving gnarled stump.
Oh, I curse you west wind and my broken water pump.
Water bailed with bucket, from never ending stream.
Oh, I curse the rudder, as it breaks from helm fast and clean.
I curse you mean sea, now I am cast a drift.
On my knees, I pray to heaven, for the wind to dropp and shift.
Days with no food and water, lie ahead of me.
I drift with tide and current, towards the Sargasso Sea.
A sea of weed entangled, around the entrails of dead ships.
Ships of great endurance, asleep on a green desert sit.
Brigand with barnacles galore lay wind beaten on its side.
I wonder what gauntlet, you oh dead ship did ride.
With guns blazing, from aft to fore.
Below your decks, what treasures do you store?
Ships of all shapes and sizes, the Sargasso has you trapped.
The sea of endless weed, never seen, nor ever mapped.
Into your great maw, I drift, helpless without wind.
Is this where I meet my maker?
For all that, I have sinned.
This is no stockade of refuge, no place I want to be.
In a boat without a sail, trapped in the Sargasso Sea.
Oh, let me steal from your great ships.
Wood to repair my sail, then please release me, from this land of bleached bones and windy wail.
Sea of a million raptures, that contains this floating hell.
Please, oh, please release me, from a place to which I fell.
I plead to you ole west wind, blow your saintly scorn.
Free me from this entangled weed, guide me to safe waters warm
Sky of a thousand clouds, darken as the night.
The scorn of the west wind has set my sails a flight.
My boat begins to rock, the bow dips and hails.
The west wind has answered my pleas, blown wind into my sails.
Boat held fast, by weeds tight grip.
I curse you Sargasso Sea, release my now strong boat.
Salty shower pelts my face, as from the weed my boat breaks free, from the Sargasso’s grip and dead ships of the sea.
Trade winds and currents strong, lead me from this sea of dead ships, to a refuge from the storm.
Lead me to still waters grip, so I may chart a way, back to my homeland.
That I may sail your sea, safely for another day.
Lead me back to my loved one, who keeps the fire warm.
So she will not climb widow’s wharf, or reap the widow’s mourn.
Lead me with your warm wind, each step along the way.
Lead me to her arms beckoning and warm, from which I promise I will not stray.
As for you sea of dead ships, you sail with legend and lore.
No more shall I sail with you, or break waters at your shore.
Once you had me firm within your grip, but I broke free of you,
and your sea of dead ships.
Thanks to the west wind that blew.
4 July 1978
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Providential Escape
Providential escape of Ruby and Niel McLeod, children of Angus McLeod,
Ingersoll, little Neil McKay McLeod, a child three years of age, was carried
under a covered raceway, upwards of one hundred yards, the whole distance
being either covered over with roadway, buildings or ice.
A wonderous tale we now do trace,
Of little children fell in race ;
The youngest of these little dears,
The boy's age is but three years.
While coasting o'er the treacherous ice-
precious pearls of great price-
The elder Ruby, the daughter,
Was rescued from the ice cold water.
But horrid death each one did feel
Had sure befallen poor little Neil ;
Consternation did people fill,
And they cried 'shut down the mill.'
But still no person yet could tell
What had the poor child befel [sic] ;
The covered race, so long and dark,
Of hopes there scarcely seemed a spark.
Was he held fast as if in vice,
Wedged 'mong the timbers and the ice,
Or, was there for him ample room
For to float down the narrow flume?
Had he found there a watery grave,
Or been borne on crest of wave ?
Think of the mothers agony, wild,
Gazing through dark tunnel for her child.
But soon as Partlo started mill,
Through crowd there ran a joyous thrill,
When he was quickly borne along,
The little hero of our song.
Alas ! of life there is no trace,
And be is black all over face ;
Though he then seemed as if in death,
Yet quickly, they restored his breath.
Think now how mother she adored
Her sweet dear child, to her restored,
And her boundless gratitude
Unto the author of all good.
Swept through dark passage 'neath the road,
Saved only by the hand of God,
No wonder Father now feels proud
Of little Niel McKay McLeod.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wreck of the Whaler Oscar
'Twas on the 1st of April, and in the year of Eighteen thirteen,
That the whaler "Oscar" was wrecked not far from Aberdeen;
'Twas all on a sudden the wind arose, and a terrific blast it blew,
And the "Oscar" was lost, and forty-two of a gallant crew.
The storm burst forth with great violence, but of short duration,
And spread o'er a wide district, and filled the people's hearts with consternation,
And its effects were such that the people will long mind,
Because at Peterhead the roof was torn off a church by the heavy wind.
The "Oscar" joined other four ships that were lying in Aberdeen Bay,
All ready to start for Geeenland without delay,
While the hearts of each ship's crew felt light and gay,
But, when the storm burst upon them, it filled their hearts with dismay.
The wind had been blowing westerly during the night,
But suddenly it shifted to the North-east, and blew with all its might,
And thick and fast fell the blinding snow,
Which filled the poor sailors' hearts with woe.
And the "Oscar" was exposed to the full force of the gale,
But the crew resolved to do their best, allowing they should fail,
So they weighed anchor, and stood boldly out for sea,
While the great crowds that had gathered cheered them encouragingly.
The ill-fated "Oscar," however, sent a boat ashore
For some of her crew that were absent, while the angry sea did roar,
And 'twas with great difficulty the men got aboard,
And to make the ship allright they wrought with one accord.
Then suddenly the wind shifted, and a treacherous calm ensued,
And the vessel's deck with snow was thickly strewed;
And a heavy sea was running with a strong flood tide,
And it soon became apparent the men wouldn't be able the ship to guide.
And as the "Oscar" drifted further and further to leeward,
The brave crew tried hard her backward drifting to retard,
But all their efforts proved in vain, for the storm broke out anew,
While the drifting snow hid her from the spectators' view.
And the position of the "Oscar" was critical in the extreme,
And as the spray washed o'er the vessel, O what a soul-harrowing scene!
And notwithstanding the fury of the gale and the blinding snow,
Great crowds watched the "Oscar" as she was tossed to and fro.
O heaven! it was a most heart-rending sight
To see the crew struggling against the wind and blinding snow with all their might,
While the mighty waves lashed her sides and angry did roar,
Which to their relatives were painful to see that were standing on shore.
All eagerly watching her attempt to ride out the storm,
Especially their friends and relatives, who seemed very forlorn,
Because the scene was awe-inspiring and made them stand aghast,
For every moment seemed to be the "Oscar's" last.
Oh! it was horrible to see the good ship in distress,
Battling hard against wind and tide to clear the Girdleness.
A conspicuous promontory on the south side of Aberdeen Bay,
Where many a stout ship and crew have gone down passing that way.
At last the vessel was driven ashore in the bay of Greyhope,
And the "Oscar" with the elements no longer could cope.
While the big waves lashed her furiously, and she received fearful shocks,
Until a mighty wave hurled her among large boulders of rocks.
And when the vessel struck, the crew stood aghast,
But they resolved to hew down the mainmast,
Which the spectators watched with eager interest,
And to make it fall on the rocks the brave sailors tried their best.
But, instead of falling on the rocks, it dropped into the angry tide,
Then a groan arose from those that were standing on the shore side;
And the mainmast in its fall brought down the foremast,
Then all hope of saving the crew seemed gone at last.
And a number of the crew were thrown into the boiling surge below,
While loud and angry the stormy wind did blow,
And the good ship was dashed to pieces from stern to stem,
Within a yard or two from their friends, who were powerless to save them.
Oh! it was an appalling sight to see the "Oscar" in distress,
While to the forecastle was seen clinging brave Captain Innes
And five of a crew, crying for help, which none could afford,
Alas! poor fellows, crying aloud to God with one accord!
But their cry to God for help proved all in vain,
For the ship and men sank beneath the briny main,
And out of a crew of forty-four men, only two were saved,
But, landsmen, think how manfully that unfortunate crew behaved.
And also think of the mariners while you lie down to sleep,
And pray to God to protect them while on the briny deep,
For their hardships are many, and hard to endure,
There's only a plank between them and a watery grave, which makes their lives unsure.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sail The Rivers
Would you give me
One more chance
If I agree to your demands
Or will you turn the knife
Keep me in pain till
I cant take no more
Would you take the breath of my life
Or are you lookin for something
I never do right
I should be the one to let go
I could free your body and soul
So here we stand
Like actors in a play
On an empty stage
Not knowin what to say
I tried so hard to get through to you
cos dont you know I still need you
Oh, I need you
If I ask for one more night
Would you let me bathe in your light
Would you let me cover you up
And wrap myself around you
So you feel my love
Is this just the heat of the day
Or am I really feelin this way
I see your silent tears
Before the storm
I feel the breeze
From a love thats gone
Youve always walked
On the open sand
Youd risk it all so
Id reach out my hand
I tried so hard to hold on to you
cos dont you know I still need you
Sail the river and drift away
Find yourself on another day
Dont reach out
You have to hold me in bay
cos I will always follow you
Take a knife and cut me down
Spill my blood
Watch it fall to the ground
Theres no way to turn me around
cos I will always follow you
Be a part of you
If I was to offer my life
Id give it up just to
Bathe in your light
And you could have it
You could have it all
My heart, my body, my soul
Is this just the heat of the day
Or am I really feelin this way
I wipe away the tears
Before the storm
I feel the breeze
From a love thats gone
So here we stand
Nothing left to say
I give it all but you turn me away
I tried so hard to get through to you
Sail the river and drift away
Find yourself on another day
Sail the river and drift away
cos I will always follow you
I will always be a part of you
Sail the river and drift away
Sail the river and drift away
Sail the river ...
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dreamer on the Sea-shore
What are the dreams of him who may sleep
Where the solemn voice of the troubled deep
Steals on the wind with a sullen roar,
And the waters foam along the shore?
Who shelter'd lies in some calm retreat,
And hears the music of waves at his feet?
He sees not the sail that passes on
O'er the sunny fields of the sea, alone,
The farthest point that gleams on the sight,
A vanishing speck of glittering light.
He sees not the spray that, spreading wide,
Throws its lines of snow on the dark green tide;
Or the billows rushing with crests of foam
As they strove which first should reach their home—
Their home! What home has the restless main,
Which only arrives to return again,
Like the wand'rer she bears on her stormy breast,
Who seeks in vain for a place of rest.
Lo! His visions bear him along
To rocks that have heard the mermaid's song:
Or, borne on the surface of some dark surge,
Unharm'd he lies, while they onward urge
Their rapid course, and waft him away
To islands half hid 'midst the shadowy spray,
Where trees wave their boughs in the perfum'd gale,
And bid the wave-borne stranger hail;
Where birds are flitting like gems in the sun,
And streams over emerald meadows run,
That whisper in melody as they glide
To the flowers that blush along their side.
Sorrow ne'er came to that blissful shore,
For no mortal has entered that isle before:
There the Halcyon waits on the sparkling strand
Till the bark of her lover the Nautilus land;
She spreads her purple wings to the air,
And she sees his fragile vessel there—
She sees him float on the summer sea,
Where no breath but the sigh of his love may be.
The dreamer leaps towards that smiling shore—
When, lo! the vision is there no more!
Its trees, its flowers, its birds are gone—
A waste of waters is spread alone.
Plunged in the tide, he struggles amain—
High they pour, and he strives in vain:
He sinks—the billows close over his head,
He shrieks—'tis over—the dream is fled;
Secure he lies in his calm retreat,
And the idle waters still rave at his feet.
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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