Wreck of the Titanic, The – Cowan



On the lone North Star the God of the Seas
His lonely vigil keeps
While the earth grows chill and the sun lies down
And the moon on the billows sleeps.

There are myriads of stars in heaven to-night
In the pulsing waves they beat
Claiming the right of way they show,
A glistening polar fleet

Four hundred feet its glittering sparks
A Titan leads the host
And the God of the seas from the lone North Stars
looks silently from His past

And silently the iceberg creeps
Upon the glassy marge
Chill winds with fitful motion stir
Breath from the frozen barge.

A great white ship bursts on the scene
Like wind it outs it way
And where it parts the crystal air
The night as bright as day.

Oh stars in heaven, how calm the night,
The flight o’er sea how sweet
To harbour speed the mighty ship
And creeps the polar fleet.

The giant manned by phantom crew,
Floats all along its course
And crash against the splendid ship
It went with a mighty force.

Four hundred feet the Iceberg loomed
Like a huge & terrible ghost
And shuddering, shivering at its side,
Was the pride of England’s coast.

Quick to the boats the order came
But not a being stirred
None would believe that death could come
To this great ocean bird.

Again the Order to the Boats
Women and Children first
The ship is sinking by the head
Prepare to face the worst.

With broken sobs and clinging arms
Farewells are rendered up
There isn’t room for all, who then

Sweet strains gush forth, eight men agree
Some on the ship must stay
Nine hundred shipped who handle oars
Eight men took ship to play.

To anguished hearts the hymn brought balm
With cries of parting wove
Hold me up on the might waters
Keep my eyes on things above.

Women and children first
The Crafts are filling to the brim,
God pity those who for their lives
Through the icy sea must swim

But some refuse to take the boats.
For fear of stormy weather
Brave women Joyful days we shared
Come death we’ll die together.

The crafts are fleeting with their load
The ship is on her knee
And faintly floats the suppliant strain
Nearer My God to Thee.

Oh! woeful nap the winking ship
Now swimming in the dark
In desperate hope to find a hold
Upon some friendly bark.

Oh: solemn sound the prayerful tune
“Nearer my God to Thee”
Oh: frightful sigh; the ship goes down
And the Dead keep company.

On the lone North Star the God of the Seas
His lonely vigil keeps
And leading still the silent host
The ghostly iceberg creeps.

Nor man, nor beast, nor bird, is there
Within that frozen zone,
And the God of the deep, from his awful height
Looks down and sees his own.

Museum of the Atlantic: Titanic Songs & Poems.

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