We were so sad, my heart and I, And shivered in the sunshine warm; We felt some sudden danger nigh, A premonition of the storm; And scanned the heavens, but they were clear, Then gazed across the tranquil sea, But saw no sign of danger near, What could the coming trouble be?
We could but wait, my heart and I, And wonder at the strange unrest, That moved us both to weep and sigh, And pray for all we love the best; Dear ones afar, lov'd ones anear, And for all toilers on the deep, For well we know the anxious fear That haunts the vigils women keep.
Ah! well we knew, my heart and I, When first we heard the rising gale, That what we dreaded had come nigh, And we should hear a mournful tale Of shipwreck, and of brave men's lives Lost upon the treacherous sea; Of orphaned children, widowed wives, And mother's bowed in misery.
We were not wrong, my heart and I, For mournful is the story told, Of widows' wail, and orphans' cry, And brave men lying still and cold Beneath the sea, whose wild waves toss The floating wreckage on the shore. Sure evidence of their sad loss, Whose earthly voyages are o'er.
O, Pilot! of the Silent Sea, We dare to hope, my heart and I, That, in their last extremity, They heard and saw Thee standing by; Saw, too, the Harbour lights afar, And trusting all to Thy command, Crossed safely o'er the Harbour bar, And anchored in the Better Land.
