But see a faint and fitful light Out in the howling sea! A vessel seeks the harbor mouth, As in death agony. Though strong stone arms are open wide, She misses the only way; Alas! too late, the storm drives fast, The mighty waves they sweep her past, And against that sheltering pier they cast Their wrecked and shattered prey. The billows drive the barque along, Over the deck they dash, Where sailors five are clinging fast To broken stump of sail-less mast, Waiting the final crash. Is it too late? Can succor yet Those drowning men now reach! Life is so near--the firm-built pier Must be the death of each. The daring hearts--the sturdy arms, The swift and steady feet, They rush into a yawning grave, In strong recoil of mightiest wave, Treading most awful path to save, As they tread a homeward street. Over the boulders 'mid foam they rush Into the ghastly hollow; They fling the rope to the breaking wreck; The aim is sure, and it strikes the deck, The shouts of quick hope follow. Reached--not saved! there is more to do, A trumpet note is heard; Over the rage,--over the roar Of thundering billows on the shore, Rings out the guiding word. There is one chance, and only one. All can be saved, but how? "The rope hold fast, but quit the mast," The trumpet signals "Now!" There is a moment when the sea Allays its furious strength; A shuddering pause with sudden whirl, Gathering force again to hurl Billow on billow, whirl on whirl; That moment comes at length: With single shout the "Now" peals out. The answering leap is made. Well for the simple hearts that just Loosing the mast with fearless trust, The strange command obeyed! The rope is good, the stout arms pull Ere the storm-lull is o'er; 'Tis but a swift and blinding sweep Through waters wild and dark and deep-- The men are safe on shore-- Safe! though the fiend-like blast pursue; Safe! though the waves dash high; But the ringing cheer that rises clear Is checked with a sudden cry:-- "There are but four upon the shore, And five were on the deck!" And strained eyes that pierce the gloom Still trace, swift drifting on to doom, One man upon the wreck. Again they chase in sternest race The far re-coiling wave; The rope is cast, the tossing mark It reaches not, the windy dark Hides him they strive to save. They rush again, again they fail, Again, and yet again: The storm yells back defiance loud, The breakers rear a rampart proud, And roar, "In vain, in vain!" Then a giant wave takes up the wreck And bears it on its crest;-- One moment it hung quivering there In horrible arrest. The lonely man on vengeful sea A lightning flash uplit, Still clinging fast to broken mast He had not dared to quit.