This page has been validated.
98
Poems for the Sea.
No draught he took to cheer his mind,
The temperance pledge he early signed,
Nor from that promise roved;
In every duty free from blame,
Blow high, blow low, 'twas all the same,
Still happy, and beloved.
But once, upon a sultry shore
The burning fever smote him sore,
And when he shipped again,
Still to this sad disease a prey,
He wasted like the snows away,
And all our care was vain.
So with weak hand, he took the key
From out his chest and gave it me;
"This to my mother take,
My little all, to her I leave,
And tell her not too much to grieve,
For her lost sea-boy's sake.
