Poems (Charlotte Allen)/The Last Request
THE LAST REQUEST.
Oh, mother dear, said little James,
May I a fishing go?
The sun shines bright, the air is clear,
The winds do scarcely blow.
May I a fishing go?
The sun shines bright, the air is clear,
The winds do scarcely blow.
I've got a little hook and line,
Some angle-worms for bait;
And there 's my basket for the fish,
All ready, by the gate.
Some angle-worms for bait;
And there 's my basket for the fish,
All ready, by the gate.
And if you will but give consent,
I ne'er again will tease;
I do wish very much to go,
Dear Mother, if you please.
I ne'er again will tease;
I do wish very much to go,
Dear Mother, if you please.
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?
The storm waged on, the thunder pealed,
And lightning flushed the sky;
I'll seek my child! the mother cried;
I'll find him or I'll die.
And lightning flushed the sky;
I'll seek my child! the mother cried;
I'll find him or I'll die.
She took her infant from her breast,
And placed it on the bed;
Then left the house, and onward went
With an aching heart and head.
And placed it on the bed;
Then left the house, and onward went
With an aching heart and head.
A long and weary way she trod,
With the raging storm around her;
Yet she felt it not, for a mother's love,
With unshrinking firmness bound her.
With the raging storm around her;
Yet she felt it not, for a mother's love,
With unshrinking firmness bound her.
At length she reached the pebbly beach,
And called her boy by name;
No voice replied; again she called;
And yet again, in vain.
And called her boy by name;
No voice replied; again she called;
And yet again, in vain.
And there, in darkness and in fear,
With thunders pealing o'er her,
The frantic mother sought her child,
With hope's bright ray before her.
With thunders pealing o'er her,
The frantic mother sought her child,
With hope's bright ray before her.
Again the thunder rolled on high,
Again the lightning gleamed;
And o'er the wild and fearful scene,
A fitful radiance streamed.
Again the lightning gleamed;
And o'er the wild and fearful scene,
A fitful radiance streamed.
She wandered far along the shore,
Still calling on her son;
Ask of the waves if they can tell,
Where is her cherished one?
Still calling on her son;
Ask of the waves if they can tell,
Where is her cherished one?
Deep, deep within the ocean cave,
Now rests his little head;
Unbroken will his slumber be,
'Till the waves give up their dead.
Now rests his little head;
Unbroken will his slumber be,
'Till the waves give up their dead.