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My recent meandering Trove journey was meant to be a hunt for shipwreck poems. Shipwrecks are definitely a common topic for poems (hopefully more on that later in the year). But in searching I also found another way to group poems ... the title says it all, 'Poem for recitation'. Perhaps such poems appear in the papers for poetry recitation competitions. This particular poem is published in twelve different papers.
If one uses the search term 'poem for recitation' in Trove you will get over 300 hits and many of them like this poem are the same poem published in numerous papers, often around the same time. There were also books, collections of poems, with titles that included the words 'poems for recitation'.
To look at this poem is seems as though a piece of prose at the front of the poem was the poems prompt. But if I drop some these words back into the Trove search engine, or even Google, it yields nothing other than the poem.
After two verses the poem is indented, I think to indicate the voice of the bell, then bumped back out to finish on the last two verses.
None of the published versions provide an author for the poem. Indeed they all, even the one from 1904, have a piece immediately after in which the Queen expressed some dissatisfaction with marriage laws (with the one exception of the copy in Areas Express of 1897).
POEM FOR RECITATION.
THE DEAD OF THE WRECK.
"As soon as the boat struck, the bell commenced tolling, probably from the action of the wind upon it, and continued to toll, slowly and mournfully, as long as any portion of the wreck was to be seen."
And His arm was strong beneath,
And the shrieking wind, and the gurgling wave,
Went up with the wail of death.
Then hushed. And the dead were gone,
And the solemn stars were keeping
Their faithful watch, as the wild waves rocked
The sleepers to their sleeping.
And the waves went bounding below :
And above the wind, and above the roar
Of the heavy surge on the highland shore,
Came a solemn sound and slow —
Now faint, now loud, on the tempest swell
They heard the mournful voice of the bell.
Dead and gone! dead and gone !Where the desolate moan,Of the wave sinks to sleep,Where the storm-wail is o'er,Where the heart throbs no more,
In the deep.
With the foam on her brow,With a surf-shroud of snow,Went the maid to her grave ;With a gasp and a moan,The strong swimmer went down
In the wave.
With a prayer and a smileThat his lip weareth still,Looking forth on the gloom,God's good servant stood strong,As the surge swept along ;
He's at home.
Dead and gone ! dead and gone !Wail, wail ye their doom,For they lie on the billows,Call them loud ! Call them long !They are lull'd by my song
On their pillows
But they answer no more !Doth the surge on the shoreDrown the sound of their cry?Nay, their lips are grown cold,For their life-tale is told !
There they lie !
Dead and gone ! dead and gone !But the morning shall dawnAnd the silent shall speak.Slumber sweet ! slumber deep !Till the myriads that sleep
Shall awake ;
More flush'd the cold-grey East,
And the heavy surge with a solemn roar,
Unceasingly fell on the island shore
Where the dead lay sleeping to awake no more.
And ever above the mocking waves,
With a slow and solemn knell,
Came fitfully and mournfully
The sound of the tolling bell.
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