Original Poetry.
THE BOATSWAIN'S CHBISTMAS DAY. ". .- ; . - ♦ ■ ■../.. " Land ahead! *' cried the starboard watch, As the gallant vessel swtftly sped, Like an arrow shot from an archer's, bow, Brave " Eobin Hood " was her figure-head. " Land in sight!" shouts the skipper bold. And many a heart beats high with joy; The boatswain looks at the distant shore, i Then folds to his hoarfc his sailor boy. "My son," cries he, "ere the Chi'istmas chimes Ring their merry peal o'er the land in view, Tour mother will clasp you in fond embrace, And know that your fathoi's heart was true. " Say, can you remember a far-off time, When you knelt at your loving mother's knee, When her voice was clear as the village chime, ~ And all her love was for you—and me P " And can you remember the cloud that rose Like a shadow, of darkness and bitter painj Of doubt, and fear, and cruel suspense, Ere the sorrowful, certain tidings came. " Oh! Percy, my boy, 'twas the love of wealth That cast that gloom over heart and home,' 'Twas the subtle tongue of the serpent's stealth, That drovo us forth o'er the world to roam. " For he was rich, and he spake with guile, She was weak, and he tempted sore, Oh! why did his soft, deceitful smile Entice my darling from my door ? " No, Percy. I cannot hear you blame, The tender heart that gave you birth, 'Twas love of pleasure that proved her bane, False, empty, fleeting joys of earth. " Yet I know she loved mo when first we mot,And I gave her the lovo of a strong man's life, Ah! I know she will never quite forget, The happy day when I called her • wife. 1 " And Percy, it's just a year ago, Since a penitent, pleading letter came. Telling the tale of a broken heart, Tho old sad story of sin and shame. " So, Percy, you'll never by word or deed, Reproach or recall the sorrowful past, For I have forgiven, and hope to'claim, My erring love for ray own at last." The youth looked up in his father's eyes, And gave the promise in accents true, " My father forgives this wrong," he cries, " What more could men or angels do ? "
The sky grew dark, the thunder rolled, King Neptnne rode o'er the stormy sea, The lioatpwain held his boy to his heart, And cvied " My son, if it should be That we strike on the rocks, and are cast ashore, Oh! give to your mother my dying love. I fancy that you will be saved, my boy, And I shall bo carried to yonder cove Where the storms of sorrow'can never rise, Where the wicked shall cease to harass or spoil. Be brave, be true; and beyond the skies, I'll meet you again—in a little while." The good ship struck on the treacherous reef, Dashed to her fate by the pitiless storm, And none remained of those gallant souls, Save the old boatswain, on that Christmas morn. Calm and clear broke the dawn of day O'er the wreck-strewn beach where the old man.kept His silent watch 'mid the clashing spray, When to his side the erring mother crept. His whitened locks float on the summer air, He lifts his giief worn face to Heaven, And murmured softly, " God, thou hearest prayer, _ ■ Let but my boy to my arms be given !" See ! on the crest of a foaming wave, A slender form is cast ashore; The father cries, " My boy is saved!" . And clasps him to Ms heart onco moro, But the mother bonds o'er that silent form, And seoj3 that the light of life has fled; Tlio cruel waves and the angiy storm Have claimed their victim, her boy is dead! The old man. looked through his blinding tears, On the sweet dead face of. his only son ; Then from his heart fell the weight of years, As he cried aloud, "My boy, I'll come; I'll come to you now ere the golden gates Close, and hide you for ever from sight; Good-bye, poor mother, weep not for me, I'iJ meet you soon in that Home of Light." He sank on the sands, and the sailors tell, How the old man died-of a broken heart, How he loved his darling boy so well, That Death was not able the twain to part. They laid the beautiful boy to rcsfc Beside the boatswain old and grey, Ami tho mother knew that both were blest, They entered Heaven on Christmas Day. Jexny Wken.
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Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4652, 1 December 1883, Page 1
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753Original Poetry. Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4652, 1 December 1883, Page 1
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