Page:Poems Curwen.djvu/68

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60
out in the storm.

Out in the Storm.
Kneel and pray, my little daughter,
Father is out on the stormy water;
"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
Hearken to my little child,
Listen to her infant plea—
"Keep Dadda safe upon the sea."

Darling, how the wild winds roar,
The angry waves dash on the shore;
In ceaseless torrents falls the rain,
And wildly beats upon the pane.
Child, my heart grows cold with fear,
Oh, if your father were but here.

Fierce, yet fiercer blows the gale,
Till I feel my cheeks turn pale,
And with something like amaze
O'er the raging seas I gaze.
Oh, God! if I could only see
The boat come in in safety.

Through the lonesome hours of night,
In the dim, uncertain light,
While the little children sleep,
I to my casement trembling creep
And strain mine eyes in vain to see
The boat's light flash across the sea.