Classic Poem

The Sabbath bell with solemn peal,
Rose on the calm still air;
I looked upon the river's breast,
A Bethel floated there.

And streaming from its humble spire
A flag the zephyrs curled;
A vessel by its side soon moored,
Her canvas quickly furled; —

And now upon her deck there stands
A weather-beaten crew,
With feelings they cannot repress,
As now their homes they view.

God hath preserved us! they exclaim,
While on the trackless deep —
(At his command the billows roll,
At his command they sleep — )

Again to hear that Sabbath bell
Call to the house of prayer;
Then turned they to that little church
Reared for the mariner.

Slowly a rev'rend pastor rose,
The gospel to declare;
His voice was tremulous and weak,
And snowy was his hair.

He seemed upon the brink of death,
Yet tranquil and serene;
He dreaded not to launch away
On its dark rolling stream.

Then swelled a choral hymn of praise —
It ceased, and all was still;
Each head was bowed — a solemn awe
Each bosom seemed to fill.

Say not the sailor's ear is deaf
To fond affection's strains;
Or that his heart is cold, and locked
In adamantine chains.

Oft as his nightly watch he keeps
Upon the deck alone,
His thoughts on memory's wings are borne
Back to his boyhood's home.

His mother's oft repeated prayer
Is whispered in his ear;
The lullaby she used to sing,
Again he seems to hear.

Then say not that his ear is deaf
To fond affection's strains;
Or that his heart is cold, and locked
In adamantine chains.

'Twas eve — a calm, still Sabbath eve —
Most sacred hour of rest!
And gently swept the crystal wave
Upon the Hudson's breast.

Again I to that Bethel turn;
Bright lamps are shining there,
Beacons to light the starless way
Of the poor mariner.

And as the Sabbath eve returns,
Those radiant lamps will shine; —
Surely I think their brilliant rays
Emblems of light divine.