The Minute-Guns

I STOOD within the little cove,
Full of the morning’s life and hope,
While heavily the eager waves
Charged thundering up the rocky slope.

The splendid breakers ! how they rushed,
All emerald green and flashing white,
Tumultuous in the morning sun,
With cheer, and sparkle, and delight!

And freshly blew the fragrant wind,
The wild sea-wind, across their tops,
And caught the spray and flung it far,
In sweeping showers of glittering drops.

Within the cove all flashed and foamed,
With many a fleeting rainbow hue ;
Without, gleamed, bright against the sky,
A tender, wavering line of blue,

Where tossed the distant waves, and far
Shone silver-white a quiet sail,
And overhead the soaring gulls
With graceful pinions stemmed the gale.

And all my pulses thrilled with joy,
Watching the wind's and water’s strife,—
With sudden rapture, — and I cried,
“ Oh, sweet is Life ! Thank God for Life ! ”

Sailed any cloud across the sky,
Marring this glory of the sun’s ?
Over the sea, from distant forts,
There came the boom of minute-guns !

War-tidings ! Many a brave soul fled,
And many a heart the message stuns ! —
I saw no more the joyous waves,
I only heard the minute-guns.