Walter Thornbury

“ As the torchlight fell on the waves that leapt,
And gleamed on the staring and sorrowing eyes.
And then we could see the savage rush
Of the wolfish waves as they bore along,
And swept o'er the wreck with a ravening crush.
Then the moon shone out from the gloom bygone,
And up in the rigging dark there showed,
Bound to the ropes, five half-drowned men,
And one poor boy, who a spar bestrode
Till a breaker bore him into its den.
No brave man's heart could bear that cry,
As below, on the moonlit level sands,
The women knelt in their agony,
And wrung their tight-clasped pallid hands. ”

“ And the lubbers were not of a right good stuff.
So they turned, and left the men to drown;
Then we went mad at that, and raced
For the boat at the other end of the town;
And we ferried across, but the fools, disgraced,
Would not bring the key, and were sullen and glum.
So we tore down the rails, which did quite as well,
And launched the boat, and were cool and dumb,
Till we pulled away for that foaming hell.
How loud they cheered from the pier and sands
As we shot like a sea bird to the wreck;
Our hearts were good, but how weak our hands;
Waves do not yield to a coxswain's beck. ”