Poems.
99
Well, go my boy, his mother said,
But soon, again return;
Stay not 'till dusk, but hasten home,
Thou hast thy task to learn.
But soon, again return;
Stay not 'till dusk, but hasten home,
Thou hast thy task to learn.
Away, away ran little James,
In high and happy glee,
And stopped not 'tll his feet had gained,
The shore of the deep blue sea.
In high and happy glee,
And stopped not 'tll his feet had gained,
The shore of the deep blue sea.
And there beside the water's edge,
He angled with success;
Unthinking how the hours flew,
So light Time's fingers press.
He angled with success;
Unthinking how the hours flew,
So light Time's fingers press.
The day passed on, and twilight came,
The sky in clouds was drest;
The winds blew high o'er hill and dale,
And o'er the ocean's breast.
The sky in clouds was drest;
The winds blew high o'er hill and dale,
And o'er the ocean's breast.
'T was evening—James had not returned,
The storm increased apace;
The anxious mother felt alarmed,
And tears ran down her face.
The storm increased apace;
The anxious mother felt alarmed,
And tears ran down her face.
Oh where, cried she, can be my boy
I fear some ills await;
He is not used to disobey,
Where can he be so late?
I fear some ills await;
He is not used to disobey,
Where can he be so late?
