The Songs that Quinte Sang/The Sailor’s Grave
The Sailor’s Grave.
A stately ship sails out to sea,
And her sailors sing right merrily
As they cheerily hoist the snowy sail
Which bends before the freshning gale.
But there is one who stands apart,
For song and jest he has no heart,
And his eyes are dim with unshed tears
As the fading shore slow disappears.
Now ’tis lost to sight, he breathes a sigh,
“My own, dear native land, good bye,
Farewell, loved ones on yonder shore
We part to meet, perchance no more.”
**********
The ocean rests in slumber grand,
And the ship is far out from the land;
All gilded in the radiant beams
Of the golden sun, her white sail gleams.
On the good ship’s deck the sailors pace,
A solemn fear on every face.
A stranger grim with chilling breath
Has come on board, his name is Death.
O brave young heart! that undismayed
Shrank not when death’s chill hand was laid
Upon thy lips, stilling their breath
Sealing them with the seal of death.
With canvas coarse for winding sheet
They shrouded him from head to feet,
Brushed from his brow the curls of gold,
And crossed his hands on his bosom cold.
Then a prayer was murmured low and soft,
While the rising winds in the shrouds aloft
Sang a mournful requiem, slow and sad—
A funeral dirge for the sailor lad.
Then a sob broke forth from each manly breast
As he slowly sank ’neath the blue wave’s crest;
O noble heart! so true and brave,
Sleep on in rest in your sailor’s grave.
Sleep on and fear no earthly harm,
Sleep! till the judgment’s dread alarm
Shall wake thee from thy dreamless sleep
And call thee from the silent deep.
**********
And the years roll on in grief and joy,
And a mother weeps for her fair-haired boy,
And a sister prays with a sob and tear
For the safe return of her brother dear.
And a maiden stands in a cottage door
Listening for a step that will come no more,
And she prays as she looks across the sea,
“God speed my darling back to me.”
And when at eve in the glowing west
The golden sun sinks down to rest
They often watch the fading light
And say, “Perhaps he will come to-night.”
Ah! faithful hearts! ’tis all in vain,
Your loved one will not come again.
Far, far away ’neath the rolling wave
He sleeps alone in a sailor’s grave.
