Page:Poems Welby.djvu/110

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102
When the sailor-boy roams o'er the tempest-tost ocean,
And thinks of the fond ones, he never may see,
He'll murmur a prayer 'mid the billows' commotion
For the loved and the absent, while gazing on thee.

How sweet to my bosom the soothing reflection,
That, should some rude blight all my earthly hopes mar,
From the depths of my heart the pure waves of affection
May gush in their sweetness to thee, gentle star.

When all the wild faults of my youth are forgiven,
And the light of thy pale beam no longer I see,
And the last earthly link from my spirit is riven,
With an angel's light pinion I'll waft me to thee.