HE crawls to the cliff and plays on a brink
Where every eye but his own would shrink;
No music he hears but the billow’s noise,
And shells and weeds are his only toys.
No lullaby can the mother find
To sing him to rest like the moaning wind;
And the louder it wails and the fiercer it sweeps,
The deeper he breathes and the sounder he sleeps.
And now his wandering feet can reach
The rugged tracks of the desolate beach;
Creeping about like a Triton imp,
To find the haunts of the crab and shrimp.
He clings, with none to guide or help,
To the furthest ridge of slippery kelp;
And his bold heart glows while he stands and mocks
The seamew’s cry on the jutting rocks.
Few years have wan’d—and now he stands
Bareheaded on the shelving sands.
A boat is moor’d, but his young hands cope
Right well with the twisted cable rope;
He frees the craft, she kisses the tide;
The boy has climb’d her beaten side:
She drifts—she floats—he shouts with glee;
His soul hath claim’d its right on the sea.
’T is vain to tell him the howling breath
Rides over the waters with wreck and death:
He ’ll say there ’s more of fear and pain
On the plague-ridden earth than the storm-lash’d main.
’T would be as wise to spend thy power
In trying to lure the bee from the flower,
The lark from the sky, or the worm from the grave,
As in weaning the Sea-Child from the wave.
Eliza Cook (1812–89)
From: Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).
A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
(I hope to resurface for regular posting later today.)
Sorry you’re stressed (and probably feeling a bit like the lad in the poem, being tossed around in life’s seas?). Deep breaths. There may not be much land around, but there is a long weekend ahead.
Thanks Kelly, and yes, a lot more like the lad in the poem than I would like to be.
Plus there’s that darn guilt thing…sheesh. The longer you don’t post the harder it is to post again.
Lose the guilt — we here in LJ land are not an obligation. There’s no need for guilt or for apology. It’s great to hear from you when you have the time and ability to post, but I’d hate to think you’re feeling pressure to do so!