Brought from regions far away,From Pascagoula's sunny bay,
And the banks of the roaring Roanoke! Ah! what a wondrous thing it is
To note how many wheels of toil
One thought, one word, can set in motion! There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, great or small, And help to build the wooden wall! The sun was rising o'er the sea,
And long the level shadows lay,
As if they, too, the beams would be
Of some great, airy argosy.
Framed and launched in a single day. That silent architect, the sun,
Had hewn and laid them every one, Ere the work of man was yet begun. Beside the Master, when he spoke,
A youth, against an anchor leaning, Listened, to catch his slightest meaning. Only the long waves, as they broke
In ripples on the pebbly beach, Interrupted the old man's speech. Beautiful they were, in sooth,
The old man and the fiery youth! The old man, in whose busy brain Many a ship that sailed the main
Was modelled o'er and o'er again;--
The fiery youth, who was to be
the heir of his dexterity,
The heir of his house, and his daughter's hand, When he had built and launched from land What the elder head had planned.
"Thus," said he, "will we build this ship! Lay square the blocks upon the slip,
And follow well this plan of mine. Choose the timbers with greatest care; Of all that is unsound beware;
For only what is sound and strong to this vessel stall belong.
Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine
Here together shall combine.
A goodly frame, and a goodly fame, And the UNION be her name!
For the day that gives her to the sea Shall give my daughter unto thee!" The Master's word
Enraptured the young man heard; And as he turned his face aside,
With a look of joy and a thrill of pride, Standing before
Her father's door,
He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair,
And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair,
137
With the breath of morn and the soft sea air. Like a beauteous barge was she,
Still at rest on the sandy beach, Just beyond the billow's reach; But he
Was the restless, seething, stormy sea! Ah, how skilful grows the hand
That obeyeth Love's command! It is the heart, and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain,
And he who followeth Love's behest
Far excelleth all the rest!
Thus with the rising of the sun
Was the noble task begun
And soon throughout the ship-yard's bounds
Were heard the intermingled sounds
Of axes and of mallets, plied
With vigorous arms on every side; Plied so deftly and so well,
That, ere the shadows of evening fell, The keel of oak for a noble ship, Scarfed and bolted, straight and strong Was lying ready, and stretched along The blocks, well placed upon the slip. Happy, thrice happy, every one
Who sees his labor well begun, And not perplexed and multiplied, By idly waiting for time and tide!
And when the hot, long day was o'er, The young man at the Master's door Sat with the maiden calm and still. And within the porch, a little more Removed beyond the evening chill, The father sat, and told them tales
Of wrecks in the great September gales, Of pirates coasting the Spanish Main, And ships that never came back again, The chance and change of a sailor's life, Want and plenty, rest and strife,
His roving fancy, like the wind,
That nothing can stay and nothing can bind, And the magic charm of foreign lands,
With shadows of palms, and shining sands, Where the tumbling surf,
O'er the coral reefs of Madagascar, Washes the feet of the swarthy Lascar, As he lies alone and asleep on the turf.
And the trembling maiden held her breath
At the tales of that awful, pitiless sea, With all its terror and mystery,
The dim, dark sea, so like unto Death, That divides and yet unites mankind!
And whenever the old man paused, a gleam From the bowl of his pipe would awhile illume The silent group in the twilight gloom,
And thoughtful faces, as in a dream; And for a moment one might mark What had been hidden by the dark,
138
That the head of the maiden lay at rest, Tenderly, on the young man's breast! Day by day the vessel grew,
With timbers fashioned strong and true, Stemson and keelson and sternson-knee, Till, framed with perfect symmetry,
A skeleton ship rose up to view!
And around the bows and along the side The heavy hammers and mallets plied, Till after many a week, at length, Wonderful for form and strength, Sublime in its enormous bulk,
Loomed aloft the shadowy hulk!
And around it columns of smoke, up-wreathing. Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething Caldron, that glowed,
And overflowed
With the black tar, heated for the sheathing. And amid the clamors
Of clattering hammers,
He who listened heard now and then The song of the Master and his men:-- "Build me straight, O worthy Master. Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" With oaken brace and copper band,
Lay the rudder on the sand,
That, like a thought, should have control
Over the movement of the whole;
And near it the anchor, whose giant hand Would reach down and grapple with the land, And immovable and fast
