POEMS.
93
'Neath an awning on the stately deck
A pallid girl doth lie,
Gazing upon the crested waves
That bear her home to die;
And ever and anon she turns
Her glance across the main,
For a vestige of the home she yearns
To look upon again.
A pallid girl doth lie,
Gazing upon the crested waves
That bear her home to die;
And ever and anon she turns
Her glance across the main,
For a vestige of the home she yearns
To look upon again.
Home! at that thought the faint rose steals
Once more across her cheek;
And the light within her eyes shows forth
More joy than words could speak:
Sweet tones, from kindred voices, seem
To whisper in her ear,
Telling, as in a happy dream,
The bliss that draweth near.
Once more across her cheek;
And the light within her eyes shows forth
More joy than words could speak:
Sweet tones, from kindred voices, seem
To whisper in her ear,
Telling, as in a happy dream,
The bliss that draweth near.
"Speed thee, good ship! oh, speed thee on!"
Is still her changeless cry,
While swift beneath the vessel's track
The glancing waters fly.
Onward, still onward, night and day,
Till, like a distant star,
The home so pin'd for when away
Gleams faintly from afar.
Is still her changeless cry,
While swift beneath the vessel's track
The glancing waters fly.
Onward, still onward, night and day,
Till, like a distant star,
The home so pin'd for when away
Gleams faintly from afar.
