The Beacon In The Storm.

("Quels sont ces bruits sourds?")     [XXIV., July 17, 1836.]     Hark to that solemn sound!     It steals towards the strand. -     Whose is that voice profound     Which mourns the swallowed land,         With moans,         Or groans,     New threats of ruin close at hand?     It is Triton - the storm to scorn     Who doth wind his sonorous horn.     How thick the rain to-night!     And all along the coast     The sky shows naught of light     Is it a storm, my host?         Too soon         The boon     Of pleasant weather will be lost     Yes, 'tis Triton, etc.     Are seamen on that speck     Afar in deepening dark?     Is that a splitting deck     Of some ill-fated bark?         Fend harm!         Send calm!     O Venus! show thy starry spark!     Though 'tis Triton, etc.     The thousand-toothd gale, -     Adventurers too bold! -     Rips up your toughest sail     And tears your anchor-hold.         You forge         Through surge,     To be in rending breakers rolled.     While old Triton, etc.     Do sailors stare this way,     Cramped on the Needle's sheaf,     To hail the sudden ray     Which promises relief?         Then, bright;         Shine, light!     Of hope upon the beacon reef!     Though 'tis Triton, etc.