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Sea Songs

By W. C. Bennett
 
 
 

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53

IT'S ABSENCE MAKES US FONDEST.

It's absence makes us fondest;
That we best understand,
And that's why we
Who roam the sea
We dearliest love the land;
You landsmen can't be feeling
How this our home endears
To see it rise
To sea-tost eyes
It has not met for years.
And as with land with loving;
With us it's ever been
That doubly kind
We, sailors, find
The dear ones seldom seen;

54

It's well a voyage to leave them,
To know the blesséd day
When those we've thought
Of months are caught
To hearts so long away.