Poems (Barker)/The Boatman's Child
The Boatman's Child.
It was a time when stormy winds
Were sweeping o'er the land,
And scattering destruction wild
Broadcast on every hand.
When flooded rivers madly tore,
And swept upon their way,
All that they met, their outstretched arms
Bore much of human prey.
Were sweeping o'er the land,
And scattering destruction wild
Broadcast on every hand.
When flooded rivers madly tore,
And swept upon their way,
All that they met, their outstretched arms
Bore much of human prey.
Within the Mississippi's bed,
A fertile little isle,
Lifted its sunny face to heaven
With many a grateful smile.
A little cot, embowered in green,
Was nestled in the shade,
And here, Irene, the boatman's child,
From morn' till even' played.
A fertile little isle,
Lifted its sunny face to heaven
With many a grateful smile.
A little cot, embowered in green,
Was nestled in the shade,
And here, Irene, the boatman's child,
From morn' till even' played.
All day, her father at his work,
Thought of his darling child,
The pride, the pleasure of his lite,
With eyes so blue and mild.
All day, the daughter at her play
Thought of her father true,
And of her mother's grassy grave
Beneath the sky so blue.
Thought of his darling child,
The pride, the pleasure of his lite,
With eyes so blue and mild.
All day, the daughter at her play
Thought of her father true,
And of her mother's grassy grave
Beneath the sky so blue.
And oft' at night the boatman went,
With reverent look and tread,
To sit with Irene by the grave,
And tell her of the dead.
How when she was a tiny babe,
They laid her mother there,
With lillie's in her snowy hands,
And on her bosom fair.
With reverent look and tread,
To sit with Irene by the grave,
And tell her of the dead.
How when she was a tiny babe,
They laid her mother there,
With lillie's in her snowy hands,
And on her bosom fair.
And so the days had slipped away
With noiseless, painless tread,
Until ten pleasant tranquil years,
Had flitted o'er her head.
And now 'tis even' and heavy clouds
Are gathering, one by one;
Loudly and long the thunder roars,
While Irene waits alone.
With noiseless, painless tread,
Until ten pleasant tranquil years,
Had flitted o'er her head.
And now 'tis even' and heavy clouds
Are gathering, one by one;
Loudly and long the thunder roars,
While Irene waits alone.
But soon her father's boat she sees,
And runs with happy feet,
Her laughter ringing on the air,
Like joybells clear and sweet.
The raindrops fall in torrents now,
She laughs them all to scorn:
"My little lass,"—the boatman thinks—
"A palace would adorn."
And runs with happy feet,
Her laughter ringing on the air,
Like joybells clear and sweet.
The raindrops fall in torrents now,
She laughs them all to scorn:
"My little lass,"—the boatman thinks—
"A palace would adorn."
Swift to the cottage now they fly,
The father and the child,
"The wind is rising, hark Irene!
The night is very wild."
"But here we are so safe," she said,
"And I'm so glad you've come;
The Boatman answered with a smile,
"God bless my child and home."
The father and the child,
"The wind is rising, hark Irene!
The night is very wild."
"But here we are so safe," she said,
"And I'm so glad you've come;
The Boatman answered with a smile,
"God bless my child and home."
But all night long the thunders roar,
And faster falls the rain,
And wild the wind that dashes it
Against the window pane.
Three days, three nights the tempest wild.
Has with them made it's home;
And now the river running mad
Lifts up it's arms of foam.
And faster falls the rain,
And wild the wind that dashes it
Against the window pane.
Three days, three nights the tempest wild.
Has with them made it's home;
And now the river running mad
Lifts up it's arms of foam.
The boatman sees with sinking heart,
The water's rapid rise:
He sees his little home afloat,
To gain the shore is wise.
And yet, how can he breast that flood?
Stout heart, and brave, I wean,
There is one thought, and only one,
'Tis of his child, Irene.
The water's rapid rise:
He sees his little home afloat,
To gain the shore is wise.
And yet, how can he breast that flood?
Stout heart, and brave, I wean,
There is one thought, and only one,
'Tis of his child, Irene.
His only hope is in the shore,
He calls her to his side,
"See, darling, we must leave our home,
Death is on every side;"
Her blue eyes look into his own,
With light so pure and free,
"Dear father I am not afraid,
You'll take good care of me."
He calls her to his side,
"See, darling, we must leave our home,
Death is on every side;"
Her blue eyes look into his own,
With light so pure and free,
"Dear father I am not afraid,
You'll take good care of me."
He takes her to his loving heart,
His boat was near at hand,
"O, God, thy strength," the boatman cries,
To help me gain the land."
Out, out, into the angry flood,
That laughs to see its prey,
And catches it and tosses it
Far in its arms away.
His boat was near at hand,
"O, God, thy strength," the boatman cries,
To help me gain the land."
Out, out, into the angry flood,
That laughs to see its prey,
And catches it and tosses it
Far in its arms away.
"Irene, hold fast! my child, my child,
Your form I cannot see,"
Her sweet voice answers, "I am safe,
You'll take good care of me,"
The shore, oh Heaven! how far it seems,
How little does he gain;
The torrent sweeps him farther down,
He pulls with might and main.
Your form I cannot see,"
Her sweet voice answers, "I am safe,
You'll take good care of me,"
The shore, oh Heaven! how far it seems,
How little does he gain;
The torrent sweeps him farther down,
He pulls with might and main.
His eyeballs glow like living coals,
His lips are stern and white;
"Irene, my darling, say your prayers
We'll be in Heaven to-night;"
"O! father, father, help has come,
Mother is there with you;
I know her by her lovely hair,
And by her eyes so blue.
His lips are stern and white;
"Irene, my darling, say your prayers
We'll be in Heaven to-night;"
"O! father, father, help has come,
Mother is there with you;
I know her by her lovely hair,
And by her eyes so blue.
"Pull to the right, pull to the right,
The way is bright before,
And mother stands with outstretched hand
To point us to the shore."
On! on, brave father, nothing now
Your strength can overwhelm,
See, through the blinding, dashing spray,
An angel at the helm.
The way is bright before,
And mother stands with outstretched hand
To point us to the shore."
On! on, brave father, nothing now
Your strength can overwhelm,
See, through the blinding, dashing spray,
An angel at the helm.
"We're safe, we're safe," the boatman cries,
"And Heaven has sent us aid,"
For every muscle had been strained
And every effort made;
"Once more, oh, darling of my life!
"I fold you to my breast,
"Where ten long years I've fondled you,
"And soothed you into rest."
"And Heaven has sent us aid,"
For every muscle had been strained
And every effort made;
"Once more, oh, darling of my life!
"I fold you to my breast,
"Where ten long years I've fondled you,
"And soothed you into rest."
"Irene, if you have seen her face,
"Who left me years agone,
"It was because we were so near,
The portals of the dawn;
"And if her love has given us back
"To life, and earth once more,
"We'll nightly bless the angel hand
"That brought us to the shore."
"Who left me years agone,
"It was because we were so near,
The portals of the dawn;
"And if her love has given us back
"To life, and earth once more,
"We'll nightly bless the angel hand
"That brought us to the shore."