 | Poems |  |
92
THE SAILOR'S DREAM.
The ship upon the breeze was hung,
My hammock from the deck was swung,
Our last song of glee was sung,
And I was deeply sleeping.
My hammock from the deck was swung,
Our last song of glee was sung,
And I was deeply sleeping.
My father's cot before me stood,
And the wide pine-apple wood,
The sportive deer, in mirthful mood,
Around my path was leaping.
And the wide pine-apple wood,
The sportive deer, in mirthful mood,
Around my path was leaping.
And there my wife, in faithful love,
Was gazing on the distant grove,
And when the breeze its boughs did move,
She bowed her head in weeping.
Was gazing on the distant grove,
And when the breeze its boughs did move,
She bowed her head in weeping.
She caught my frisking dog, and pressed
Him to her fair and throbbing breast,
And words she spoke, as she carest,
And words they were worth keeping.
Him to her fair and throbbing breast,
And words she spoke, as she carest,
And words they were worth keeping.
I strove to burst my way, and hear
The song, alas! my aching ear
Could not, for far away my dear
Our bridal couch was steeping.
The song, alas! my aching ear
Could not, for far away my dear
Our bridal couch was steeping.
I could not hear, but saw my sire
Collect his wood for winter fire,
And knew he touch'd the rustic lyre
As he his grain was reaping.
Collect his wood for winter fire,
And knew he touch'd the rustic lyre
As he his grain was reaping.
93
But, loud above my aching head,
The drowsy watch was called to tread
The deck, and slow I left my bed,
And then the tide was neaping.
The drowsy watch was called to tread
The deck, and slow I left my bed,
And then the tide was neaping.
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