The Aged Pilot Man

On the Erie Canal, it was, All on a summer's day, I sailed forth with my parents Far away to Albany.

From out the clouds at noon that day There came a dreadful storm, That piled the billows high about, And filled us with alarm.

A man came rushing from a house, "Tie up your boat I pray! Tie up your boat, tie up, alas! Tie up while yet you may."

Our captain cast one glance astern, Then forward glanced he, And said, "My wife and little ones I never more shall see."

Said Dollinger the pilot man, In noble words, but few— "Fear not, but lean on Dollinger, And he will fetch you through."

The boat drove on, the frightened mules Tore through the rain and wind, And bravely still in danger's post, The whip-boy strode behind.

"Come 'board, come 'board," the captain cried, "Nor tempt so wild a storm;" But still the raging mules advanced, And still the boy strode on.

Then said the captain to us all, "Alas, 'tis plain to me, The greater danger is not there, But here upon the sea.

So let us strive, while life remains, To save all souls on board, And then if die at last we must, I ... cannot speak the word!"

Said Dollinger the pilot man, Tow'ring above the crew, "Fear not, but trust in Dollinger, And he will fetch you through."

"Low bridge! low bridge!" all heads went down, The labouring bark sped on; A mill we passed, we passed a church, Hamlets, and fields of corn;

And all the world came out to see, And chased along the shore, Crying, "Alas, the sheeted rain, The wind, the tempest's roar! Alas, the gallant ship and crew, Can nothing help them more?"

And from our deck sad eyes looked out Across the stormy scene: The tossing wake of billows aft, The bending forests green,

The chickens sheltered under carts, In lee of barn the cows, The skurrying swine with straw in mouth, The wild spray from our bows!

"She balances? She wavers! Now let her go about! If she misses stays and broaches to We're all"—[then with a shout,] "Huray! huray! Avast! belay! Take in more sail! Lor! what a gale! Ho, boy, haul taut on the hind mule's tail!"

"Ho! lighten ship! ho! man the pump! Ho, hostler, heave the lead!" "A quarter-three!—'tis shoaling fast! Three feet large!—three-e feet!— 'Tis three feet scant!" I cried in fright, "Oh, is there no retreat?"

Said Dollinger the pilot man, As on the vessel flew, "Fear not, but trust in Dollinger, And he will fetch you through."

A panic struck the bravest hearts, The boldest cheek turned pale; For plain to all, this shoaling said A leak had burst the ditch's bed! And, straight as bolt from crossbow sped, Our ship swept on, with shoaling lead, Before the fearful gale!

"Sever the tow-line! Stop the mules!" Too late! .... There comes a shock!