Poems for the Sea/I went to Sea
I WENT TO SEA.
I am a sailor, rough and bold,
And yet my childhood fair,
Was nurtured in a pleasant home,
By parents' tender care;
But at their hearth or by their side
I had no mind to be,
E'er since I heard a story told
Of one who went to sea.
I sat in school, but book or rule
No wise instruction brought,
The snowy sail, and tossing flood
So fill'd my boyish thought,
And even at night, upon my bed,
Strange visions spoke to me,
And monsters play'd, and mermaids sung
Wild carols of the sea.
My father bade me learn a trade,
Or till the fallow land,
And told how healthful toil would heap
The silver in my hand;
But at his Death, alas! I broke
From all allegiance free,
And though my widowed mother wept,
I left her for the sea.
I've sail'd where arctic oceans spread,
And icy mountains frown,
And the fierce fire of tropic suns
Hath turn'd my breast so brown,
I've roam'd among the Indian isles,
Where grows the spicy tree,
And where the broad La Plata rolls
Rich tribute to the sea.
I've climbed the shroud when storms blew loud,
And every star was dead,
And winter in the midnight cloud
Had muffled up her head;
I've seen our good ship go to wreck,
For such was heaven's decree,
And in an open boat have dar'd
The raging of the sea.
Yet still that Pilot, who the helm
Of this round world doth guide,
Preserved me, when the jaws of death
Were yawning dark and wide;
Though when the blast was safely past,
Too oft in thoughtless glee
My hard, ungrateful heart forgot
The Ruler of the sea.
But oft my mother's image comes
So pitiful and meek,
As when with streaming eyes she stood
Her last farewell to speak,
When from her pleasant cottage door
I made such haste to flee,
And in my wilful haste forsook
Her kindness for the sea.
That Book divine, which bids us shun
The dread, undying flame,
Doth strictly for our parent-guides,
A filial reverence claim;
But mother, mother, kind and dear,
How have I honored thee?
With many a pang thy love was paid,
Before I went to sea.
God give me grace to see thy face,
And soothe thy sorrowing care,
And freely with thy feeble age
My hard-earned pittance share,
And hear thee speak in loving tones
The words so sweet to me,
Thy blessing on the lost and found,
The son who went to sea.