Robert Kirkland Kernighan

(25 April 1854 – 3 November 1926 / Ontario)

The Wild November Morning - Poem by Robert Kirkland Kernighan

The air was dark, and damp, and chill,

And the lofty trees were swaying ;

And round and round the Haunted Hill

The scattered leaves were playing ;

The wild winds swept across the lea
Cold and damp from the gurgling sea,
And Oh ! how drear it seemed to me
This wild November morning.

The storm-king beat the sounding shore
With a heavy and pond'rous hammer ;
The bleak sky caught the sullen roar,
And shook with the awful clamor ;

And the wind rush'd by with a shriek and a cry
And tore the clouds in the frowning sky,
And piled them up in mountains high !
This wild November morning.

And out upon the surging bay,

A scbooner stood in the offing,
And at her struggles in the spray,

The howling winds were scoffing ;

Oh ! how the pelting snow and sleet
About her hull and rigging beat
It seemed to me her winding sheet,
This wild November morning.

A woman stood beside the rocks,

And gazed upon the ocean ;
The wild wind whipt her auburn locks,
And she wept with wild emotion.

She cried : ' My sailor true and brave
Is struggling now with the rolling wave ;
Will no one come to help and save,
This wild November morning?'

Her lover paced the swaying deck,

And waved the scarf she made him ;
While all about the creaking wreck

The winds and waves upbraid him.

' I see her boat upon the tide :
She comes to save,' he weeping cried,

' May God protect my darling bride,
This wild November morning.'

Straight as an arrow to its mark,
The little craft went speeding ;
Although the waves roll'd high and dark
'Though her little hands were bleeding,
She gained the wreck then back they go
Safe through the pelting sleet and snow ;
Two loving hearts are one I know
This wild November morningf.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2012

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