Find the relics of the ravening night that spared but nine.

[Pg 169]

Life by life the man redeems them, head by storm-worn head,

While the girl's hand stays the boat whereof the waves are fain:

Ah, but woe for one, the mother clasping fast her dead!

Happier, had the surges slain her with her children slain.

Back they bear, and bring between them safe the woful nine,

Where above the ravenous Hawkers fixed at watch for prey

Storm and calm behold the Longstone's towering signal shine

Now as when that labouring night brought forth a shuddering day.

Now as then, though like the hounds of storm against her snarling

All the clamorous years between us storm down many a fame,

As our sires beheld before us we behold Grace Darling

Crowned and throned our queen, and as they hailed we hail her name.

Nay, not ours alone, her kinsfolk born, though chiefliest ours,

East and west and south acclaim her queen of England's maids,

Star more sweet than all their stars and flower than all their flowers,

Higher in heaven and earth than star that sets or flower that fades.

How should land or sea that nurtured her forget, or love

[Pg 170]

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