Classic Poem

INSCRIBED TO J. GILL .

"Good-bye, my son! Jehovah
Be with you on the deep;
He never knoweth slumber,
His eyelids never sleep.
The winds that sweep the waters,
Are lull'd at His command;
As truly on the ocean
As He is on the land! "

The sailor left his mother,
And turn'd him from the door;
And reach'd the anchor'd vessel, —
She never saw him more.
For soon the tidings smote her,
And sorrow much did she,
Like Rachel, in the Scriptures,
That he was lost at sea.

How bow'd his stricken parents!
His sisters sorrow'd sore;
A light had left their dwelling,
To cheer it nevermore.
Whether he sank in tempest,
Or when the gales were free,
On rock or reef, they knew not,
Save he was lost at sea.

And now a voice of mourning
Is ever on the air;
When Summer lists the skylark,
Or when the boughs are bare:
A voice with anguish laden,
Wherever they may be,
Sounding the doleful ditty,
That he was lost at sea.