, build it
strong and stanch, And to the lines and the treacherous rocks look well
as you launch Over the foamy tops of the waves, and their foam-sprent
sides, Over the hidden reefs, and through the embattled tides, Onward
rushes the raft, with many a lurch and leap,--Lord! if it strike him
loose from the hold he scarce can keep! No! through all peril unharmed,
it reaches him harmless at least, And to its proven strength he lashes
his weakness fast. Now, for the shore! But steady, steady, my men, and
slow; Taut, now, the quivering lines; now slack; and so, let her go!
Thronging the shores around stands the pitying multitude; Wan as his
own are their looks, and a nightmare seems to brood Heavy upon them,
and heavy the silence hangs on all, Save for the rapids' plunge, and the
thunder of the fall. But on a sudden thrills from the people still
and pale, Chorussing his unheard despair, a desperate wail Caught on a
lurking point of rock it sways and swings, Sport of the pitiless waters,
the raft to which he clings.

III.
All the long afternoon it idly swings and sways; And on the shore the
crowd lifts up its hands and prays: Lifts to heaven and wrings the hands
so helpless to save, Prays for the mercy of God on him whom the rock and
the ways Battle for, fettered betwixt them, and who amidst their strife
Straggles to help his helpers, and fights so hard for his life, Tugging
at rope and at reef, while men weep and women swoon. Priceless second by
second, so wastes the afternoon. And it is sunset now; and another boat
and the last Down to him from the bridge through the rapids has safely
passed.

IV.
Wild through the crowd comes flying a man that nothing can stay
Maddening against the gate that is locked athwart his way. "No! we keep
the bridge for them that can help him. You, Tell us, who are you?" "His
brother!" "God help you both! Pass through." Wild, with wide arms of
imploring he calls aloud to him, Unto the face of his brother, scarce
seen in the distance dim; But in the roar of the rapids his fluttering
words are lost As in a wind of autumn the leaves of autumn are tossed.
And from the bridge he sees his brother sever the rope Holding him
to the raft, and rise secure in his hope; Sees all as in a dream the
terrible pageantry, Populous shores, the woods, the sky, the birds
flying free; Sees, then, the form--that, spent with effort and fasting
and fear, Flings itself feebly and fails