When The Evening Star Went Down
The morning was fearful at sea--
The voyagers weary and pale;
Their steamer a wreck, from keel to deck,
Before an Autumnal gale.
Old Neptune came forth in power--
He wore on his features a frown;
And many a guest he took to rest,
When the "Evening Star" went down.
They sleep in a fathomless grave,
The guest and the mariner brave;
They pillow their heads on coral beds,
Beneath the blue ocean waves,
Beneath the blue ocean waves.
Sail'd ever a ship from her quay,
So heavily laden as she,
With folly and fame, with hope and shame,
With vanity, mirth and glee?
But in the dark moment that came,
How useless were rank and renown!
And honors of earth, what were they worth,
When the "Evening Star" went down.
The treacherous ocean is calm--
No longer in storm billows toss's;
Yet darkness and cloud will long enshroud
The hearts that were link'd with the lost.
In how many, how many homes,
Far distant, in country or town,
A light was put out, in dread, in doubt,
When the "Evening Star" when down.
Wake Nicodemus!
Nicodemus, the slave was of African birth,
And was bought for a bagful of gold;
He was reckon'd as part of the salt of the earth,
But he died years ago, very old.
'Twas his last sad request as we laid him away
In the trunk of an old hollow tree;
"Wake me up!" was his charge, "at the first break of day --
Wake me up for the great Jubilee!"
The "Good Time Coming" is almost here!
It was long, long, long on the way!
Now run and tell Elijah to hurry up Pump,
And meet me at the gumtree in the swamp
To wake Nicodemus today.
He was known as a prophet -- at least was as wise --
For he told of the battles to come;
And we trembled with dread when he roll'd up his eyes,
And we heeded the shake of his thumb.
Though he clothed us with fear, yet the garments he wore
Were in patches at elbow and knees;
And he still wears the suit that he used to of yore,
As he sleeps in the old hollow tree.
Nicodemus was never the sport of the lash,
Though the bullet has oft cross'd his path;
There were none of his masters so brave or so rash
As to face such a man in his wrath.
Yet his great heart with kindness was filled to the brim --
He obeyed who was born to command;
But he long'd for the morning which then was so dim --
For the morning which now is at hand.
'Twas a long weary night -- we were almost in fear
That the future was more than he knew;
'Twas a long weary night -- but the morning is near,
And the words of our prophet are true.
There are signs in the sky that the darkness is gone --
There are tokens in endless array;
While the storm which had seemingly banished the dawn,
Only hastens the advent of day.
