Grace Darling

Among the dwellers in the silent fields The natural heart is touched, and public way And crowded street resound with ballad strains, Inspired by one whose very name bespeaks Favour divine, exalting human love; Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's coast, Known unto few but prized as far as known, A single Act endears to high and low Through the whole land to Manhood, moved in spite Of the world's freezing cares, to generous Youth, To Infancy, that lisps her praise to Age Whose eye reflects it, glistening through a tear Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame Awaits her 'now'; but, verily, good deeds Do not imperishable record find Save in the rolls of heaven, where hers may live A theme for angels, when they celebrate The high-souled virtues which forgetful earth Has witnessed. Oh! that winds and waves could speak Of things which their united power called forth From the pure depths of her humanity! A Maiden gentle, yet, at duty's call, Firm and unflinching, as the Lighthouse reared On the Island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place; Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves, Age after age, the hostile elements, As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell. All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused, When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty air, Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf, Beating on one of those disastrous isles, Half of a Vessel, half no more; the rest Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there Had for the common safety striven in vain, Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick glance Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern, Clinging about the remnant of this Ship, Creatures, how precious in the Maiden's sight! For whom, belike, the old Man grieves still more Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed Where every parting agony is hushed, And hope and fear mix not in further strife. "But courage, Father! let us out to sea, A few may yet be saved." The Daughter's words, Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith, Dispel the Father's doubts: nor do they lack The noble-minded Mother's helping hand To launch the boat; and with her blessing cheered, And inwardly sustained by silent prayer, Together they put forth, Father and Child! Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go, Rivals in effort; and, alike intent Here to elude and there surmount, they watch The billows lengthening, mutually crossed And shattered, and re-gathering their might; As if the tumult, by the Almighty's will Were, in the conscious sea, roused and prolonged That woman's fortitude, so tried, so proved, May brighten more and more! True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart, Though danger, as the Wreck is neared, becomes More imminent. Not unseen do they approach; And rapture, with varieties of fear Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames Of those who, in that dauntless energy, Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturbed Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives That of the pair, tossed on the waves to bring Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, life, One is a Woman, a poor earthly sister, Or, be the Visitant other than she seems, A guardian Spirit sent from pitying Heaven, In woman's shape. But why prolong the tale, Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts Armed to repel them? Every hazard faced And difficulty mastered, with resolve That no one breathing should be left to perish, This last remainder of the crew are all Placed in the little boat, then o'er the deep Are safely borne, landed upon the beach, And, in fulfilment of God's mercy, lodged Within the sheltering Lighthouse. Shout, ye Waves Send forth a song of triumph. Waves and Winds, Exult in this deliverance wrought through faith In Him whose Providence your rage hath served! Ye screaming Sea-mews, in the concert join! And would that some immortal Voice, a Voice Fitly attuned to all that gratitude Breathes out from floor or couch, through pallid lips Of the survivors, to the clouds might bear, Blended with praise of that parental love, Beneath whose watchful eye the Maiden grew Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave, Though young so wise, though meek so resolute, Might carry to the clouds and to the stars, Yea, to celestial Choirs, Grace Darling's name!