It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his month,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.
Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed to the Spanish Main,
“I pray thee, put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.
“Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!”
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the Northeast.
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable’s length.
“Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow.”
He wrapped her warm in his seaman’s coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.
“O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
O say, what may it be?”
“‘Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!”–
And he steered for the open sea.
“O father! I hear the sound of guns,
O say, what may it be?”
“Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!”
“O father! I see a gleaming light
O say, what may it be?”
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.
Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,
On the Lake of Galilee.
And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow’rds the reef of Norman’s Woe.
And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.
She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.
Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair,
Lashed close to a drifting mast.
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the billows fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of Norman’s Woe!
My grandmother, Jewish, and clearly not a follower
of Longfellow’s poetry in her city of origin, Lodz
Poland, would use the expressiion ‘wreck of the hesperus’ to oomment on an untenable situation. I had
always wondered about the origin and on googling discovered the poem. What made me seek it out is today
I was certain as my grandmother had been at times at
the same age as I am now that she looked like the reck of the hesperus. enjoyed the poem particularly since
I have become a huge fan of Melville and Conrad and have been introduced to destructive captains who bring down the innnocent with their arrogance and do not accept the power of nature. So let’s hear it for Lonfellow and Grandma Mary Winokur.
When I was a little girl in the early fifties, my fastidiously-groomed grandmother (who grew up in the 1890’s) used to say when she wasn’t satisfied with her own appearance, “Oh! I look like the Wreck of the Hesperus!” And of course she often said it to me too, because my hair was usually wild and messed up. I knew it meant messy somehow, but I didn’t know where Grandma got it from. I found myself spontaneously saying it to myself as I got into the office this morning, late and rushed. I googled it and found out it was a Longfellow poem, and was delighted to finally read it. It’s a link with Grandma!
Looking for information and found it at this great site…
Thank you very much.
this one is simple & nice.o
I studied this poem in grade school somewhere in the nineteen fifties. I have rememmered this poem all my life. I remember it had a profound impact on me.I currently teach English in Malaysia, and came across this poem by accident as I was searching materials on the internet for my students. It’s a real treat to read this poem again after all these years. I have often repeated some parts, because we had to learn this poem off by heart.
My dad loved this poem. He was a scottish fisherman, who,loved the sea and loved poetry. He loved this poem because it was about a skipper and his daughter. I think he imagened that He was the skipper and I was the daughter. He toke a stroke about 5-6 years ago, and when i went to visit him, I always read this poem to him aloud. It’s very emotional to me. He loved Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. ( luv u dad xx )
My only knowledge of this poem was hearing my mom, who must have had to memorize it in the 1930s, mutter to herself when she was unhappy with her hair or makeup, “I look like The Wreck of the Hesperus!”
I did not learn much at school in the 1940’s but this I loved and learnt off by heart, I had a lot of fun teaching it to my Grandson, He loved it at about 5 or 6 years of age, now 23. Thank You HWL.
Stan . Australia
My seventh grade teacher made us memorize and recite several poems throughout the year. This was the longest we had to memeorize and this is the one that I can still recite after 42 years. Thank you Mrs. Bortz..You were a lady and a scholar!
my mother used to use the phrase that someone looked like the wreck of the hesperis at approprate times== as in all in disaray. she was born in 1901!
My dad used to recite this very picture filled poem to me.A time in my life that will always be treasured. p.s. I did the same with my kids. thanks mr.longfellow
when i listened to this poem, it touched me like a diamond on a extrodenary women finger. So deep and so far it almost mad me burst in tears. I just love this poem and hope everyone inlights there day like it did to thee.