The book of gold, and other poems . right, and, blithe from breeze and spray And chasing breakers, fathers, sons, and brothers Went home to happy children, wives, and mothers. The tide came in, and shoulder-deep the pier Wallowed in waves that lapped and leaped and glistened; And still, to see one longed-for sail appear, The lonesome little watchers gazed and listened Until their fluttering hearts were filled with fear,And beat against the bars like birds imprisoned. Their parents came not with the coming tide ; And now the hungry babe awoke and cried. The others cried for sympathy or fright,
The book of gold, and other poems . right, and, blithe from breeze and spray And chasing breakers, fathers, sons, and brothers Went home to happy children, wives, and mothers. The tide came in, and shoulder-deep the pier Wallowed in waves that lapped and leaped and glistened; And still, to see one longed-for sail appear, The lonesome little watchers gazed and listened Until their fluttering hearts were filled with fear,And beat against the bars like birds imprisoned. Their parents came not with the coming tide ; And now the hungry babe awoke and cried. The others cried for sympathy or fright, Till little Job assumed a manly air,And brushed his tears, and said, The moon is bright; Well hurry to the wharf to meet them there ; 42 THE WRECK OF THE FISHING-BOAT. Im sure by that time they will be in sight. Ill carry Baby; Willie, youll take careThat Sissy doesnt fall. Of course, you know,Its the big catch of fish that keeps them so. He soothed the babe, and tied his sisters hood,And led them forth with childish words of cheer. and still their long and lonesome vigil KEEP. Dont cry ! you know she told us to be good !Then to the wharf, shuddering with cold and fear. The tide was in ; the steep wharf-ladder stood Plunged in the deep wide flood, which lashed the pier, And brimmed the bay, and gleamed among the isles, And silvered shores and shoals for glittering miles. THE WRECK OF THE FISHING-BOAT. 43 But over all that bright expanse no sail. The wind had freshened, and was blowing strong ;And well those little ones might quake and quail, Harking to catch their fathers cheery song,To hear the waves instead, and rising gale : No sound beside, but evermore the longRoll of the thundering breakers far night was chill: it was the month of May. They find a skiff careened upon the pier,And into this the trembling wretches creep, And cuddle close, eager for warmth and cheer,And still their long and lonesome vigil keep, Scanning the troubled waters far and near, Till all but
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcharlesefeinbergcolle, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
