'Twas midnight in the southern seas
And windless. On the placid deep
Flashed sparkling phosphorescences,
While moonbeams, bright in silver bars,
Lay like a pathway to the stars.
Tireless, our engines, day and night,
A month had throbbed their endless round
Without a pause to mark time's flight.
We heard it all unconsciously
Till suddenly it ceased to be.
For now the slowing pulse that beat,
Stopped in the vessel's iron breast
And quickly changed my slumber sweet
To wandering and uneasy thought
Of what the midnight might have brought.
Gaining the deck, I looked around
With drowsy eyes and half asleep,
And saw a something wrapped and bound
And weighted. I was standing near
Some hapless seaman's simple bier.
A shapeless form in canvas lay,
Stretched on a wooden grating low,
Waiting the word to pass away
Into the silent depths of sea
And boundless realm of fantasy.
Before the bulwark's opening stood
A group about a lantern's light
Moveless like figures carved in wood,
Whilst one with gruff solemnity,
Read prayers for those who die at sea.
Then at the end, with sudden leap,
That sent the sparkling water high,
The body plunged into the deep
Amid a million points of light
That glittered as it sank from sight.
Scarce had a moment passed, before
The men with silent haste had gone:
The engines plied their task, once more,
The ship her steady course pursued
Across the moonlit solitude.
The morning dawned, the hours passed by
And life on board from day to day
Was changeless as the sea and sky.
And so unreal the memory seemed
I wondered if I had not dreamed.