Each look'd upon his comrade's face, Pale as funereal stone ; Yet none could touch the other's hand, For none could feel his own. Like statues fixed, that gallant band Stood on the dread deck to die ; The sleet was their shroud, the wind their dirge, And their churchyard the sea and sky. (Letitia Elizabeth Landon)

Each look'd upon his comrade's face, Pale as funereal stone ; Yet none could touch the other's hand, For none could feel his own. Like statues fixed, that gallant band Stood on the dread deck to die ; The sleet was their shroud, the wind their dirge, And their churchyard the sea and sky.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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