The Wreck of the Hesperus

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This marvellous narrative poem tells the story of a shipwreck caused by the captain's arrogance and pride. Composed in 1839, it was inspired by a massive storm that struck the New England coast - so it's part fact, part fiction.

The captain of the Hesperus, supremely overconfident, prepares to sail in spite of storm warnings. His young daughter, whom he's taken aboard, innocently trusts her father’s judgment, unaware of the dangers that lie ahead. His disregard for her safety and his determination to press on into turbulent weather set the stage for disaster...

“The skipper he stood beside the helm, / His pipe was in his mouth,” - he's calm, he's indifferent, while the description of the storm is vivid and haunting, creating an atmosphere of intense suspense.

The poem reaches its climax when the captain’s daughter, who's been tied to the mast for safety, succumbs to the cold as the ship is battered by the storm. Her innocence and trust are shattered by the harsh reality of the storm, and her death symbolises the ultimate price of the captain’s pride.

Longfellow uses such awesome, vivid imagery throughout the poem: “The snow fell hissing in the brine, / And the billows frothed like yeast.” - I absolutely love it. This poem combines elements of adventure, tragedy, and nature’s unforgiving power, and it has become one of Longfellow’s most memorable works. I love it and hope you will enjoy a read...

It was the schooner Hesperus,

      That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughtèr,

      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 mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow

      The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailòr,

      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 daughtèr,

      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,

      Oh say, what may it be?"

"'T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" —

      And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns,

      Oh say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress, that cannot live

      In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light,

      Oh 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 savèd 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!