Cape Romain Poem by William Crafts

The breakers are foaming and dashing along,
The pelican sits on the wave;
The sea-gull and curlew are mingling their song,
With the scream of the winds as they rave.

The horizon discovers three desolate isles,
To life and to verdure unknown;
Save the rattlesnake, where in his malice he coils,
Or the myrtle in pity hath grown.

There are wrecks on the coast—there are bones on the shore.
And a murderer's beacon on high,
That invites him to enter, who goes forth no more,
And yields him allurements to die.

O'erpassing in safety the perilous sea,
The mariner welcomes the land;
How short his illusion—how fatal his glee,
His corpse is ashore on the strand.

The day-star of mercy shall dawn on the scene,
And the signal of piety show
Where the wreck of the innocent victim has been,
And guard the survivor from woe.

Ah! who to a nation of freemen is dear,
If not the bright son of the wave?
When his home, and his wife, and his children, grow near,
Oh! beckon him not to his grave.