The Wreck of the Hesperus -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Guest poem submitted by Suresh Ramasubramanian, as
part of this week's theme, poems oft-quoted by Bertie Wooster:

(Poem #717) 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 helm, 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 to the Spanish Main, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane. "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 Northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow." 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, Oh say, what may it be?" "'T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" -- And he steered for the open sea. "O father! I hear the sound of guns, Oh say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" "O father! I see a gleaming light, Oh say, what may it be?" But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That savèd she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave On the Lake of Galilee. And fast through the midnight dark and drear, Through the whistling sleet and snow, Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept Tow'rds the reef of Norman's Woe. And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf On the rocks and the hard sea-sand. The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck. She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared! At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe! -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In 1839, Longfellow was inspired to write one of his best-known poems on
hearing of the wreck of the schooner Hesperus on the reef of Norman's Woe,
off Gloucester, Massachusetts some twenty years ago. One of the bodies
washed ashore was, in fact, lashed to a spar, as described in the poem.

He described the composition of the poem as follows:

"I wrote last evening a notice of Allston's poems. After which I sat till
twelve o'clock by my fire, smoking, when suddenly it came into my mind to
write the Ballad of the Schooner Hesperus; which accordingly I did. Then I
went to bed, but could not sleep. New thoughts were running in my mind, and
I got up to add them to the ballad. It was three by the clock. I then went
to bed and fell asleep. I feel pleased with the ballad. It hardly cost me an
effort. It did not come into my mind by lines but by stanzas."

"The Wreck ..." has been set to music by John Liptrot Hatton, a mostly
self-taught musician who was quite popular during the nineteenth century for
his ballads (and assorted other work including cathedral services, anthems,
operas ...).

As for the Bertie connection, well ... he has often compared his sozzled (or
unhappy, or whatever) friends to "the wreck of the Hesperus".

Oh, and try these two more recent musical takes on 'Hesperus':

George Harrison ([broken link] http://brouci.host.sk/text/george/wreckoft.htm)
Procol Harum (www.procolharum.com/wreck_of_the_hesperus_crd.htm)

Suresh.