[717] The Wreck of the Hesperus

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

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 (http://brouci.host.sk/text/george/wreckoft.htm)
Procol Harum (www.procolharum.com/wreck_of_the_hesperus_crd.htm)

Suresh.

From: mamaliga <zvitka@>

> Suresh.

Thanks for posting this poem. This is probably the first poem I learnt by
heart in school. A long time ago. And it will always be very special to
me. I am surpiried by how moved I was to read these words again and by the
memories it stirred in me.

Ah, the magic of poetry. Thank you

From: ASchoolfield@

what are the eight most important events in this peom and what is the climate 
of it hte rising action and the falling action of this peom

From: Ruth Panthen <catsmom@>

I first read "The Wreck of the Hesperus"when I was about 8 or 9 years
old. My older brother had a poetry book from the school library and I
picked it up one day and was totally spellbound by this poem.I never
forgot it and just took a chance looking it up tonight.It certainly
created a lasting memory for me during my lifetime. I am now 73 years
old and while it is a rather morbid tale, it still brought back great
memories.   Ruth Panthen  catsmom@

From: "Tammy" <037787w@>

My father used to read this poem to me when I was a little girl. I would
watch my father recite the poem to me by memory and I would sit and
stare spellbind by the words. My father passed away almost five years
ago and I took a chance to see if I could find the poem online tonight.
As I read the words of the poem it made me realized that there is a
special bond between dads and daughters.

From: "Carley or Ian Thomson" <dec31@>

    At age 5, (1928) one night, I was taken by my parents to hear my
paternal Grandfather recite The Wreck of the Hesperus. He was totally
without teeth, had a huge moustache (mustache) and spoke with a very heavy
Glasgow accent. Having been Canadian born I sat, spellbound, listening to
his lengthy recitation - ***and didn't understood one single word of what
he'd said.*** Nevertheless, the memory of that event stayed with me. A few
years back I tried to find it, at the Library but was unsuccessful, probably
as a result of my own failure to properly search for it. Today, on the web,
I found it. Wow! Terrific! Great! Thanks to those responsible for its
presentation in this medium.
    Ian, 80, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

From: "James Jones" <r-g-jones@>

Hello,
   Thanks for the poem.  I heard it many years ago.  Today at lunch with
some friends, one mentioned that his Mother used to tell him that his
room looked like "The Wreck of the Hesperus" when she wanted him to
clean it up. He had no idea where that expression came from, but it must
have come from this poem.  (He is only 53, and his Mother is 80).  She
probably had the poem read to her as a child.  Thank you.

Groveen Jones      r-g-jones@

From: "James Jones" <r-g-jones@>

Hello,
   Thanks for the poem.  I heard it many years ago.  Today at lunch with
some friends, one mentioned that his Mother used to tell him that his
room looked like "The Wreck of the Hesperus" when she wanted him to
clean it up. He had no idea where that expression came from, but it must
have come from this poem.  (He is only 53, and his Mother is 80).  She
probably had the poem read to her as a child.  Thank you.

Groveen Jones      r-g-jones@

From: =?iso-8859-1?B?RW1tYW51ZWwgTGl66WU=?= <de5lizee@>

<html><div style='background-color:'><DIV>
<DIV class=RTE>
<DIV>I am french and 55. I sailed on my father's boat named HESPERUS for 30 years from France to great britain and back.</DIV>
<DIV>Now this boat was sold but I baught another one (a DRAGON 40 years old). I named her HESPERUS.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV>Do you know if this poem has been translated in French ?</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV>Emmanuel et Delphine Lizée</DIV></DIV></DIV></div></html>