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Martha Douglas Journal

Journal kept by Martha Douglas, youngest daughter of Sir James Douglas. Learn more.

*All transcriptions are provided by volunteers, and the accuracy of the transcriptions is not guaranteed. Please be sure to verify the information by viewing the image record, or visiting the BC Archives in person. 

BC Archives MS-0678

*Please note that archival source materials are original historical documents that have not been censored, reviewed or otherwise altered by the Royal BC Museum. Some materials may contain content that is racist, sexist or otherwise offensive. The Royal BC Museum is only the custodian of archival materials; the content does not necessarily reflect the views or policies of the Royal BC Museum.

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The Wreck of the Wright.

(From the Portland Herald.)

The sun has set, and all alone A steamer battles with the sea Her plume of smoke is backward blown The conquering wave bends sullenly. And chill and drear a shadow creeps Along the wild and misty deeps That roll to windward and a-lee.

With maniac laughter, deep and low, The hungry caverns mock her way ; A pallid sea-bird, wheeling slow, Shrieks to his mother sea, below The hopeless flight of human prey And o'er the waste of water broods The dreariest of Nature's moods, Bereft of all save bleak dismay.

A sudden blenching strikes the sea To windward, and the fearful twang Of Neptune's trident, hums a glee Of might and wrath and agony, Far where the breakers boom and clang Like flying shrouds from riffed graves, The foam lies gleaming on the waves Whence ocean's slumb'ring furies sprang.

The stricken billows lean away With trampling thunders in the gale, And staggering blindly to the fray The frail ship starts each bolt and stay; Her cordage shrieks and with a wail She plunges downward in the gloom Of roaring gorges hoarse with doom And none alive may tell the tale

What thoughts there came of home and friends, What prayers were said, what kisses thrown Were lost upon the wind that lends Its borrowed wealth no more, and blends A sigh of trouble with the moan That sadly haunts the restless waves, Forever rolling o'er the caves, Where richer things than pearls are strewn.

They sailed one day and came--no more! All else is wrapt in mystery The surges kneel upon the shore And tell their sorrows o'er and o'er And still above the Northern sea, A pensive spirit, pale and slow, The gray gull wheeling to and fro', Keeps watch and ward eternally.


The Reason Why.

BC Archives, MS-0678 Box 1 File 6 / DOUGLAS, Sir James / Journal kept by Martha Douglas, 1872 – 1873.

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