A Rescue

O, keen is the shrill November blast,
     A breath but yesterday soft & balmy, –
The clouds in tatters are rushing past
     Like straggling squalls of a routed drug,
With the rush of a fierce foe following fast.
     The shreds of blue, seen momently through
     The flying ranks, have a steely hue
Like the fitful glitter from bayonets cart.
          The froth of the seething white-caps
               Whirls off in feathering flakes,
          That seem like the flight of sea-gulls
               Where the billow on “Cormorant” breaks.

The black sea-fowl are drifting
     At the will of the western gale,
And mix their crowds with the shattered clouds
     That the bitter winds assail
See, dim in the misty distance
     Aquidnec’s island above,
With its fringe of guardian breakers,
     And a far-off muffled roar,
Around a shattered halcyon-nest –
The harbor’s calm, unruffled breast,
Behind rock-shielded Sachuest –
     Where gray point lifts the gauntlet
Of the sand, marauding West —
     The loud Wind’s insolent challenge
          To the guardian of her rest.

How the Ocean steeds come prancing,
     With their snowy manes up-playing,
On our day-lined shows advancing,
     That yield to their headlong racing.
Ha! yonder, tossed on the ridge’s peak,
That sinks & soars in the west-wind bleak,
     Is that the flash of a “white-wing”
Rocked wildly an Ocean’s heart?
     Or a storm-defying halcyon
A-swing on her heaving nest?
Look forth my blue-eyed Daughter
     While I watch with the seaman’s glass
Scan closely the turbulent water, —
     Of the Watchers on the height,
It seemed he would never rise again
     To greet this straining sight!

The signal has ceased to wane in air;
     Low on his thwart the castaway droops;
Is he stricken down by a dumb despair;
     With his hearts-blood frozen in its cell?
Or sees he a hope in the pinnace that swoops,
     From the Leeward land? We cannot tell!
     But the batting Reasoners struggle well; —
          They are strong to do & dare!

Winning their slow way, inch by inch,
With muscle [?] & will that never flinch, —
     Despite the Powers impeding,
     They see their Homes receding
In a filmy vapor overcast:
     With unrelenting onset
     They plough their way toward sunset,
In the very thrust of the icy blast!
     Meanwhile is the Drifter nearing,
     Unseeing them, & unhearing,
     And vaguely deeming this hour his last.

The sea-winds drive him backward
     Across the foaming Bay,
Toward the wildly-leaping breakers,
     Yet half a league away,
Where they dance their savage war-dance,
     Expectant of their prey!
But if dull despair & terror,
     Or the fangs of the biting blast
Have left him a spark unquenched
     In that form, benumbed & drenched,
          They shall meet & greet at last!

To The Maiden watching from the shore
     Ever the peril seems more & more;
So far away are the toilers toss’d 
On the rocking deep, they too are lost.
     As the boat goes plunging from the brink
Of the tottering wave, her heart will sink,
          To rise again as they rise
          To greet her straining eyes;
But oh, for the fearful while her Graves
Abide in that deep Gehenna of waves!
     Now, now they are lost forever!

The foaming [?] jaws of the deeps
     Will open to free them never!
How the frantic monster leaps!
Ha! now they are out on the summit!
     They ride on even keel;
And now they go down like a plummet;
     O, her moods, like the waters, reel!
Those stalwart arms were they strong in vain?
Were those brave hearts food for the hungry main?
     Ah no! they return to the weltering crest
          Of the up-flung wave,
     Still driving into the stormy west,
          Still strong to save!

A few more strokes of the dauntless ash
That dares to lash, with their headlong dash,
     The fierce, implacable foe,
A few more plunges adown the abysses,
A few more leaps of dim precipices,
     By the upward swing of the wave, – & lo,
They are side by side of the helpless Waif,
     And have snatched him over their shallop’s bow,
     And toward the East they have turned their prow,
     She [?] is safe as they; Heaven keep them safe!

Now the waters see them driving fast
     Shoreward, Homeward, along with the blast;
This for turned friend, with a pitiless scourge
Lashes the billows that hear them on
     Like  frantic steeds that their riders urge 
With foaming flanks, till the race is won!
They verily leap from ridge to ridge
Of the seething waters, – a flying bridge
Across the gulfs, to the welcoming land,
     That seems to rise to greet them,
     And sea-ward rush to meet them!
Till the keel grides sharply on the sand.
At once leap out those gallant men,
     To drag their boat high on the strand,
Ere the ebbing wave returns again
          To claim the prey
          They have snatched away,
In that fight with Danger, hand to hand

Now thanks to the common Heart,
     Of whatever name & race,
To Womanhood doing her loving part, 
To the true Man, doing his manly place,
     Aye, to childhood, helpful & tender, –
The castaway lives to bless the Brave,
     Who daring the wrath of wind & wave,
Bade the arrogant Sea; – “Surrender!”