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LEFT ASHORE.
Oh, long ere the cruel night was doneCame the muffled toll of the minute gun;Nothing it meant to me, I knew,Save that other women were waiting too;For many the craft that, cast away,On the shoals of the long Plum Island lay,Wrecked and naked, a hungry hordeOf fierce white surges leaping aboard;And bale and bundle came up from the sea,But nothing ever came back to me.
And though every pool where the full tides tossI search for some lock of curling floss,Yet still in my window, night by night,The little candle is burning bright;For, oh, if I suddenly turned to meetMy darlings coming with flying feet,While I in the place they left me sat,No greater marvel 't would be than thatWhen so softly, so slowly, stole up from the seaThe day that brought my dole to me!
