. Canadian Catholic Readers. Third Reader. o. Ipromised you should get what you deserved, and so youshall, for Ill make you sergeant in my own body-guardsRise, Sergeant Meyer. XX.—THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea;And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day,And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the Lelm, His pipe was in his mouth,And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now west
. Canadian Catholic Readers. Third Reader. o. Ipromised you should get what you deserved, and so youshall, for Ill make you sergeant in my own body-guardsRise, Sergeant Meyer. XX.—THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea;And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day,And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the Lelm, His pipe was in his mouth,And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now west, now south. Then up and spake an old sailor, Had sailed the Spanish Main, I pray thee put into yonder port, Tor I fear a hurricane. The Wreck of the Hesperus. 45 Last night, the moon had a golden ring,And to-night no moon we see ! The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,And a scornful laugh laughed he. Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the north-east;The snow fell hissing in tlie brine, And the billows frothed like Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength ;She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cables length. Come hither ! come hither ! my little daughter,And do not tremble so ;For I can weather the roughest galeThat ever wind did blow. 46 Third Reader. He wrapped her warm in his seaman s coat, Against the stinging blast;He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. O father ! I hear the church bells ring, O say what may it be ?Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast! — And he steered for the open sea. • O father ! I hear the sound of guns, O say what may it be 1Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea ! O father ! I see a gleaming light, O say what may it be 1But the father answered never a word,— A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm all stiff and his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snowOn his fixed and glassy eyes.
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