Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
The Prison Ships, 1776 (abridged)Thomas Walsh
O
In youth and strength—and die
’Mid rotting hulks that once by every sea
And star swung carelessly—
To die becalmed in war’s black hell,
Where in the noon’s wide blaze your hearts could soar
With gull and eagle by each cherished shore
Of home—where ye had sworn to dwell
The fathers of the free.
In consecration of the solemn deed
Which here commemorates this iron breed
Of martyrs nameless in the clay
As the true heroes of our newer day—
World heroes—patterned not on king and demi-god
Of charioted splendor or of crown
Blood crusted—but on toilers in the sod,
On reapers of the sea, on lovers of mankind,
Whose bruisèd shoulders bear
The lumbering wain of progress—all who share
The crust and sorrows of our mortal lot—
Lamps of the soul The Christ hath left behind
To light the path whereon He faltered not.
Bear ye the tidings of this joy-swept main
Where round the coasts of Celt or Dane
Ye brave the sleet-mouthed north
Or track the moon on some Sicilian wave
Or lonely cape of Spain;
Take ye the story of these comrades true
Whose prison hulks sank here
Where now such tides of men are poured
As never surged o’er crag or fiord
To stay the gulls with fear—
Who yet such quest of glory know
As never Argonaut of old
Seeking the shores of gold—
As never knight from wound and vigil pale
Tracing o’er sunset worlds his Holy Grail.
In sign memorial! Through the glooms of Time
’Twill teach a sacrifice of self sublime
O’er lash of storms as through corroding calms,
Nor e’er alone shall shine
Its love-bright parapet;
But every star shall bring a golden alms;—
The seething harbour line
Glow ’neath its star-fed hives, its swing and flare
Of Bridges;—while with pilgrim lamps from sea
Shall grope the Dreadnought fleets;—while endless prayer
Of dawns and sunsets floods the faces far
Uplifted, tear-stained, to this Martyr shrine—
Whose sister torch shall greet what Liberty
Holds back to God,—earth’s brightest answering star.