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Poem by Charles Tennyson Turner

The Buoy-Bell

HOW like the leper, with his own sad cry
  Enforcing its own solitude, it tolls!
  That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals,
To warn us from the place of jeopardy!
O friend of man! sore vexed by Oceans power,
The changing tides wash oer thee day by day;
  Thy trembling mouth is filled with bitter spray:
Yet still thou ringest on from hour to hour.
High is thy mission, though thy lot is wild:
  To be in dangers realm a guardian sound;
    In seamens dreams a pleasant part to bear,
  And earn their blessing as the year goes round;
    And strike the keynote of each grateful prayer
Breathed in their distant homes by wife or child.

Charles Tennyson Turner

Charles Tennyson Turner's other poems:
  1. The Lattice at Sunrise
  2. Orion
  3. Lettys Globe
  4. Her First-Born
  5. Our Mary and the Child Mummy

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