Classic Poem

The Sea-beat Mariner, whose watchful eye
—Full many a boist'rous night hath wak'd to weep;
When the keen blast descending from the sky,
—Snatch'd his warm tear-drop from the rav'nous deep.

Drench'd by the chilling rain, his dreary hour
—Creeps slowly onward to the dawn of day;
Till burning Phoebus darting thro' the show'r,
—Warms with his golden beam the frothy spray:

With lightning's swiftness he ascends the mast,
—And cries, “another tedious night is o'er;”
He spreads the swelling sail, he sees at last
—His darling Mistress, and his native Shore;
The restless wand'rer then forgets past pain,
Steals a fond kiss, and braves his fate again.

The Sea-beat Mariner, whose watchful eye
—Full many a boist'rous night hath wak'd to weep;
When the keen blast descending from the sky,
—Snatch'd his warm tear-drop from the rav'nous deep.

Drench'd by the chilling rain, his dreary hour
—Creeps slowly onward to the dawn of day;
Till burning Phoebus darting thro' the show'r,
—Warms with his golden beam the frothy spray:

With lightning's swiftness he ascends the mast,
—And cries, “another tedious night is o'er;”
He spreads the swelling sail, he sees at last
—His darling Mistress, and his native Shore;
The restless wand'rer then forgets past pain,
Steals a fond kiss, and braves his fate again.