A THOUSAND miles from land are we, <br />Tossing about on the roaring sea; <br />From billow to bounding billow cast, <br />Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast: <br />The sails are scatter’d abroad, like weeds, <br />The strong masts shake like quivering reeds, <br />The mighty cables, and iron chains, <br />The hull, which all earthly strength disdains, <br />They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone <br />Their natural hard, proud strength disown. <br /> <br />Up and down! Up and down! <br />From the base of the wave to the billow’s crown, <br />And midst the flashing and feathery foam <br />The Stormy Petrel finds a home,— <br />A home, if such a place may be, <br />For her who lives on the wide, wide sea, <br />On the craggy ice, in the frozen air, <br />And only seeketh her rocky lair <br />To warm her young, and to teach them spring <br />At once o’er the waves on their stormy wing. <br /> <br />O’er the Deep! O’er the Deep! <br />Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish sleep, <br />Outflying the blast and the driving rain, <br />The Petrel telleth her tale—in vain; <br />For the mariner curseth the warning bird <br />Who bringeth him news of the storms unheard! <br />Ah! thus does the prophet, of good or ill, <br />Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still: <br />Yet he ne’er falters:—So, Petrel! spring <br />Once more o’er the waves on thy stormy wing!<br /><br />Barry Cornwall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-stormy-petrel/
