But day by day still passed away, and Famine fiercer pressed, And still the adverse winds blew on and knew no change or rest. Yet strove they in their agony to let no murmuring word Against the good and gracious Lord, from out their lips be heard. But with their wildly gleaming eyes they gazed out o'er the main. Wave rolling after wave was all that answered back again. On the horizon's distant verge not even a speck was seen, But the cresting foam of breaking waves still shimmering between. And fiercer yet, as hour by hour went slowly creeping by, The famine wrung their tortured frames till it were bliss to die. And hopes of further aid grew faint, and it did seem that they Out on the waste of waters wide of Heaven forgotten lay. But night and morn and noon they prayed--oh blessed voice of prayer! That God would save their trembling souls out of this great despair. Again the fatal die was cast, and 'mid a general gloom, Mark Edward calmly forward came to meet the appointed doom. But when they saw his noble port, and his manly bearing brave, Each would have given up his life that bold young heart to save. They would have wept, but their hot eyes refused the grateful tear, Yet with sorrowful and suppliant looks they drew themselves more near. Mark Edward turned aside and spoke in accents calm and low, Unto a man with silver hair, whose look was full of wo, And bade him if the Lord should spare, and they should reach the shore, To bear a message from his lips to his beloved Lenore. "Tell her my thoughts were God's and hers," the brave young spirit cried, "Tell her not how it came to pass, say only that I died." Then with a brief and earnest prayer his soul to God he gave, Beseeching that the sacrifice the lives of all might save. Each looked on each, but not a hand would strike the fatal blow, It was a death pang but to think what hand should lay him low. And sick at heart they turned away their misery to bear, And wrestled once again with God in agony of prayer. As drops of blood wrung from the heart fell each imploring word, Oh, God of Heaven! and can it be such prayer is still unheard? They strained once more each aching orb out o'er the gloomy main, Wave rolling after wave was all that answered back again. They waited yet--they lingered yet--they searched the horizon round, No sight of land, no blessed sail, no living thing was found. They lingered yet--hope faded fast from out the hearts of all. They waited yet--till black Despair sunk o'er them like a pall. They turned to where Mark Edward stood with his unblenching brow, Or he must die their lives to save, or all must perish now. They lingered yet--they waited yet--a sudden shriek rung out-- "A sail! A sail! Oh, blessed Lord!" burst forth one joyful shout. New strength those famished men received; fervent their thanks, but brief-- They man their boat, they reach the ship, they ask a swift relief.