Ocean in anger: a howling monster,
With baleful visage, unpastured maw;
Tearing at Earth's defenceless bosom
With ravening tusk and ruthless claw!

Out in the roar of that raging water,
Lashed by the tempest's unsparing scourge,
A ship flies … Crash! … It is torn—it is spitted—
By rock-fangs hidden in seething surge!

Like a dove, when pierced by an unseen arrow,
Wounded and sinking the vessel lies;
The crew from her deck, in frightened tumult,
Clamour to heaven with hopeless cries.

Scattered on shore are the waiting watchers;
Some seek plunder—ignoble gear—
Others, who fain would aid, are helpless,
Falter and fail in the gyves of fear!

Into their midst a man comes riding;
Say, who this horseman with hoary hair,
With kingly mien and open visage,
And eyes so fearless and kind and clear?

'Tis one who comes from a quiet farmstead,
Who far from the busy throngs has dwelt,
A humble hind who herds the cattle—
A denizen of the lonely veld.

Perhaps, while herding the calm-eyed cattle
By wind-kiss'd kopje and sun-swept plain,
He dream'd his dream of deeds heroic,
And pray'd that his life might not be vain:

Perhaps, while milking the full-fed cattle,
As the sun stole over the mountain-belt,
He dream'd his dream of great adventure—
This lowly son of the sunburnt veld.

The day has come: the great adventure:
He whispers low in his horse's ear;
He kindles the beast with his breath heroic—
And they tilt with the tempest, this dauntless pair!

Around them, the surges snarl and bellow;
Above them, hisses the stinging spray;
And upon the beach the breathless watchers
Forget their terror, forget their prey.

Seven times they traverse the path of peril,
And souls twice seven are brought to shore;
But from their last, sad, great adventure
The gallant couple return—no more.

Return no more? Nay, nay, they are with us,
They perish never—that noble twain!
Life passes ever: its deeds of valour
Are with us—our inviolate gain!

Life fades away; but its deathless mem'ries
Still haunt our footsteps; their stir is felt
Whether we dwell in the hiving city,
Or the lonely farm on the boundless veld!

—Ocean in savage, unflinching struggle,
Warfare as old as the world is old,
Ne'er snatch'd from Earth a spoil more precious
Than that silver head, and that heart of gold!