BETA

The Golden Bee.

Part I.

I.

Laden with precious merchandise, the growth of
Chinese toil,
1
And costly work of Chinese hands, the patient wealth
of toil,
2
Over the wave with outspread sails, like white-
winged bird at sea,
3
Swiftly, gaily, homeward bound, sped on the Golden
Bee.
4

II.

Stored with such peachy-textured silks as shimmer
in the sun,
5
With countless rainbow-tinted gleams and never
keep to one
6
Silks to burnish Beauty’s self with a new resplendent
ray,
7
Silks an English queen might wear on her coronation
day.
8

III.

She had chests of fragrant tea-leaves to make social
household boards,
9
Or to be the one sweet luxury of widows’ scanty
hoards ;
10
With grotesque and dainty ivories, carved by coarse-
grained hands,
11
For idle money-spenders in rich European lands.12

IV.

Cloudless the sky—fresh blew the breeze—the Cap-
tain’s heart was light,
13
As on the deck he lingered late and watched the
coming night ;
14
If sweet the journey homeward from an unpropitious
sail,
15
’Tis sweeter still where Fortune smiles iv port and sea
and gale.
16

V.

Blithe was the Captain’s gallant heart, for things
had prospered well,
17
Soon should he reach his home on shore with much
good news to tell ;
18
Good news for his Parsee merchants, and for the fair
young wife,
19
Whose sweet affection made the joy and beauty of
his life.
20

VI.

Soon should he kiss his bonnie boy, and hold him on
his knee,
21
Awhile he’d listen eager-eyed to stories of the sea ; 22
Soon should he kiss his latest-born, and then the
Captain smiled,
23
Smiled father-like to think of her, his little unseen
child.
24

VII.

A tear ran down his sunburt cheek, a mild joy lit
his eye
25
So sweet were thoughts of love and home—so near
they seemed to lie ;
26
Whilst through his great, rough heart diffused such
pure and soft delight,
27
As like an even song of praise went up to heaven’s
height.
28

VIII.

One by one upon the waves twinkled every rising
star,
29
And Dian trailed her golden hair over the deep afar ;30
Whilst lonely o’er the vastness of that solitary sea,31
Glided, as on feathered feet, the good ship Golden
Bee.
32

IX.

Hark ! what terrific cry was that of horror and
affright,
33
Which broke like some tempestuous sound the still-
ness of the night,
34
Rousing the crew from rest and sleep to tremble with
dismay,
35
Waking the Captain’s sunny dreams of harbour far
away ?
36

X.

Oh, Captain, wake ! ’Tis but a dream—the harbour
is not won,
37
Thou dost not clasp thy Mary’s hand, or kiss thy
little son ;
38
Thy baby sweetly sleeps ashore—that shore is far
from thee
39
Oh, Captain, wake ! for none but God cam save thy
Golden Bee.
40

XI.

Fire !” ’twas an awful sound to hear on solitary
seas,
41
With double danger in the breath of every fresh’ning
breeze ;
42
An awful sight it was to see the vessel all alight,43
As if a blazing meteor dropped into the darksome
night.
44

XII.

Foremost and calm amid his crew the Captain gave
command,
45
Nor backward in a moment’s need to help with skil-
ful hand,
46
Awhile the courage in his voice and firmness on his
brow
47
Imparted strength and hope to hearts which ne’er
had drooped till now.
48

XIII.

Three days, three nights, the vessel burned ; oh,
Heavens ! ’twas strange to be
49
Mid fire unquenchable with all the waters of the
sea !
50
Bat neither skill nor strength availed : the fatal
breezes blew,
51
Death and destruction, fiery-winged, threatened the
gallant crew.
52

XIV.

And all was lost. Those gorgeous silks would sweep
no palace now,
53
Those ivory fans would never feign a breeze to
beauty’s brow ;
54
The aromatic leaf could soothe no weary student’s
brain,
55
Or freshen lips in fever heats upon the bed of pain.56

XV.

Get out the boat !” with firm quick voice the short
command was said,
57
And no man spoke, but straight and swift the order
was obeyed ;
58
Then one by one the crew stepped forth—but all
looked back with tears,
59
Upon the bonnie Golden Bee, their home of many
years.
60

XVI.

But first the Captain snatched from flame, and pressed
within his breast,
61
A relic of departed days, of all his heart loved best :62
A little Prayer-book, well-worn now, a gift in early
life,
63
Sweet token from his early love ere yet he called her
wife.
64

XVII.

And quick as falls a lightning shaft, when thunder
is behind,
65
A thousand recollected joys flashed o’er his troubled
mind ;
66
Of happy, happy courtship days, and later, still more
sweet,
67
The tranquil joys of married life, the sound of baby
feet.
68

XVIII.

Amid a death-like silentness of breeze and sky and
sea,
69
Beneath a burning noonday sun they left the Golden
Bee ;
70
And when they saw the blackened wreck totter amid
the foam,
71
Each sailor breathed a prayer to God, and thought
of wife and home.
72

XIX.

Then out upon a lonely sea, six hundred miles from
land,
73
The solitary boat sailed forth with that courageous
band ;
74
Sailed forth as drifts a withered leaf upon the surg-
ing tide,
75
With only hope to be their strength, and only God as
guide.
76

XX.

No white sail specked the arid sky, no cloud or
shadow came,
77
To cool that blue abyss of air which seemed to be a
flame ;
78
No breeze sprang up to aid their oars, no friendly
ray of light,
79
Of moon or star shone out to guide their dreary path
at night.
80

XXI.

Oh ! God, it was a fearful thing to float and drift
away,
81
Upon so wide a wilderness, day after weary day,82
With meagre store of food and drink which, ere two
days had rolled,
83
They measured out as never yet a miser did his
gold.
84

XXII.

Oh, Captain !” cried a sailor boy, “ I ran away
to sea,
85
And well I know my mother’s heart has sorely
grieved for me ;
86
Will some one take my parting love ?— I shall not
reach the shore.”
87
And then he smiled a saintly smile, nor smiled nor
spoke no more.
88

XXIII.

Then tenderly, with bare brown hands, his comrades
did prepare
89
An humble shroud, and wrapp’d him in with more
than woman’s care.
90
And all stood up and bared their heads, awhile the
Captain read
91
The Church of England’s requiem over its ransomed
dead.
92

XXIV.

The red sun dipp’d into the sea, and lit the west afar,93
The crimson clouds paled one by one, beneath the
evening star ;
94
A calm of even-tide enwrapp’d both breeze and sky
and wave,
95
When in God’s great cathedral vault the sailor found
a grave.
96

XXV.

They wept no more—but, silent, stood and watched
the placid deep ;
97
Thinking with wistful hearts of him who slept such
blessed sleep.
98
And one—a gaunt and giant man—sent forth a
bitter cry,
99
And clenched his hand, and shrieked aloud, “ Oh,
master, let us die !”
100

XXVI.

Oh, let us die !  The words rang forth through the
sweet summer air,
101
As if a mad and tortured soul breathed out its last
wild prayer.
102
They sounded far athwart the sea, and up into the
sky,
103
Till even silence seemed to make the echo, “ Let us
die !”
104

XXVII.

Then rose the Captain, sternly sad, and where the
sun had set,
105
He waved one hand, and cried in tones which could
command them yet :
106
Oh, comrades ! will you see His works, and doubt
that he can still
107
Save e’en in the eleventh hour, if such should be His
will ?
108

XXVIII.

Oh, whilst there’s life, despair not !  Have we
mothers, children, wives ?
109
Does not their memory give us all the strength of
double lives ?
110
Mind ye not how the widow’s cruse, though wasted,
filled again :
111
We’ve yet the widow’s God o’erhead, and yet a little
grain.
112

XXIX.

Oh ! tender wives, who live for us, our hearts
consent to take
113
A little hope, a little faith, for your beloved sake.114
Oh ! children of our dearest love ! oh, pleasant home
ashore !
115
Our souls can brave a thousand deaths to call ye
ours once more !”
116

PART II.

I.

Where palaces of merchant kings in marbled splen-
dour rise
117
And gleam beneath the burning blue of fair Cal-
cutta’s skies
118
Where orange groves and myrtle bowers weigh down
the sultry air,
119
The Captain’s fair young wife abode, and watched
his coming there.
120

II.

She never heard the billows roar, or saw a ship at
sea,
121
Without a thought of those who steered the bonnie
Golden Bee ;
122
She never kissed her babes at night, or woke at dawn
of day,
123
Without a prayer that God would speed her sailor
on his way.
124

III.

One night rose up a fierce monsoon, and with a
sudden roar,
125
Startled the waves from twilight rest, and dashed
against the shore ;
126
Where all night long they shrieked and wailed, and
sobbing sunk to sleep,
127
As dying groans of shipwrecked men fade on the
silent deep.
128

IV.

The Captain’s babes serenely slept, and through the
tempest smiled,
129
As sweet forget-me-nots bloom fair amid an Alpine
wild ;
130
The mother, weeping, clasped her hands, and, pacing
to and fro,
131
Prayed, with a white-faced misery, in murmurs faint
and low.
132

V.

Oh ! husband, art thou safe ashore, or shipwrecked
on the sea,
133
And do the wild waves bring from far thy drowning
voice to me ?
134
Oh ! father of my sleeping babes ’tis hard that thou
must bear
135
Dangers unspeakable, which I, thy own wife, may
not share.
136

VI.

Oh, God ! who mid ten thousand worlds has fixed
thy glorious seat,
137
And cares for every human heart that worships at
thy feet,
138
Pity my happy, helpless babes—my watchful agony, 139
And guide my husband’s precious life in safety back
to me.”
140

VII.

Days glided by, and brought the time when every
ship might be
141
That one for which her soul was sick of wistfulness
to see ;
142
Days grew to weeks, and still she watched, and
hoped, and prayed the same,
143
For the Golden Bee’s safe advent, which never, never
came.
144

VIII.

Then rose a morn, when hope grew faint, within her
patient heart,
145
When every sudden voice, or step, would make her
pale and start,
146
With some deep undefined fear, that brought no
words or tears,
147
But worked upon her maiden cheeks, the furrowed
grief of years.
148

IX.

Ah, me ! the sailor’s lot was hard, to drift upon the
waves,
149
Which yawned beneath the tempest’s breath, and
showed a thousand graves ;
150
With scarce a hope of seeing wife or children any
more,—
151
But oh ! the woman’s part was worst, to wait, and
weep ashore !
152

X.

She held her children to her heart, and prayed with-
out a word
153
(Ofttimes the heart’s unspoken prayer by Heaven is
soonest heard);
154
And if they heedless played or slept, the passion of
her grief
155
Would spend itself in wailing tears, which brought
her no relief.
156

XI.

Then, as a soft and tranquil day follows a night of
rain,
157
And drooping flowers will feel the sun, and ope their
leaves again,
158
For sweetest sake of feeble babes, no helper by save
One,
159
She learned to lead a widowed life, and say, “ Thy
will be done.”
160

XII.

One night the moon escaped from clouds, and with
a pale light gleamed :
161
Over the sea, which felt the glow, and murmured as
it dreamed ;
162
Her bright boy cradled at her feet, her baby on her
breast,
163
She sung her evening cradle song, and hushed the
pair to rest.
164

XIII.

And with the heaven’s tranquil light upon her golden
hair,
165
The mother’s love within her eyes—eyes that were
still so fair ;
166
She looked like some Madonna, of antique Italian
art,
167
Such as breathe the whole religion of the painter’s
pious heart.
168

XIV.

Awhile the elder child still drowsed, and like a dove
in June,
169
Cooed from his little downy nest unto his mother’s
tune,
170
A ship that bore a foreign flag rode calmly with the
tide,
171
And dropp’d its anchor in the port, by the fair city’s
side.
172

XV.

Before the mother’s voice had ceased its chanting,
fond and sweet,
173
A distant footstep echoed through the silence of the
street ;
174
And when the boy’s blue dreamy eyes sought for
her face no more,
175
A shadow flecked the window panes, and paused
without the door.
176

XVI.

A shadow of a human form, but oh, so white and
wan !
177
As if the strong vitality of manhood must be gone ;178
Then came a low breathed, tender voice, it only mur-
mured “ Wife !”
179
And heart to heart the two were clasped, called back
to new glad life.
180

XVII.

For hours they hardly spoke a word, but shedding
blessed tears,
181
Poured out their prayers of thankfulness to One who
always hears ;
182
Those tears fell on their sleeping babes. O children,
ye receive
183
Such pure baptismal rite as Church or Priesthood
ere can give.
184