  A tear let us give for the gallant “Teuton,” And bewail the unfortunate dead, And a wail let us raise for the friends that are gone, As they sleep in their watery bed. A wild shriek rings forth from the crowded deck, Borne aloft on the wings of the breeze, And a cry of despair lingers over the wreck As she sinks to her berth in the seas. The screaming sea-mew plumes his wings o’er their head, As he rides at his ease o’er the wave, While the wailing sea-gull swoops down o’er the dead, And sports on their watery grave. And the ravenous shark from his cave of gloom Hurries forth through the dark ocean’s depth, And frolicking round their wave-hidden tomb, He gloats o’er the havoc of death. Then a tear let us shed for the gallant “Teuton,” And bewail the unfortunate dead, While the screaming sea-mew sings their funeral song, As he rides o’er their watery bed. H. Hartwell. [Image of decorative bar not available.] |
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