The wind bloweth wildly; she stands on the shore;
She shudders to hear it, and will evermore.
The rush of the waves, as they rose and they fell,
Evermore to her fancy will sound like a knell!
“When, mother, dear mother, will father return?
His supper is ready,-the sticks brightly burn;
His chair is beside them, with dry shoes and coat,
I’m longing to kiss him,-Oh, where is the boat?
“Why does he not come with his fish on his arm?
He must want his supper,-he cannot be warm;
I’ll stroke his cold cheek, with his wet hair I’ll play,
I want so to kiss him,-Oh, why does he stay?”
Unheeding the voice of that prattler, she stood
To watch the wild war of the tempest and flood;
One little black speck in the distance doth float,
‘Tis her world-’tis her life-’tis her fisherman’s boat!
Her poor heart beats madly ‘twixt hope and despair,
She watches his boat with a wild, glassy stare;
Ah! ’tis hid beneath torrents of silvery spray,
! ’tis buried mid chasms that yawn for their prey.
Over mountains of horrible waves it is tost,
It is far-it is near-it is safe-it is lost!
The proud waves of ocean unheeding rush on,
But, alas! for the little black speck-it is gone!
Oh! weep for the fisherman’s boat, but weep more
For the desolate woman who stands on the shore!
She flies to her home with a shrill cry of pain,
To that home where her loved one returns not again.
All night she sits speechless, her child weeping near,
But no sob shakes her bosom,-her eye feels no tear;
In heartbroken, motionless, stupid despair,
She sits gazing on,-at his coat and his chair.
Hark! a click of the latch,-a hand opens the door,
‘Tis a step-her heart leaps-’tis his step on the floor;
He stands there before her all dripping and wet,
But his smile and his kiss have warm life in them yet.
He is here, he is safe, though his boat is a wreck;
He sinks in his chair-while her arms clasp his neck,
And a sweet little voice in his ear whispers this,
“Do kiss me, dear father-I long for a kiss!”
(Menella Bute Smedley)
More Poetry from Menella Bute Smedley:
Menella Bute Smedley Poems based on Topics: Hair, Pain, Mothers, Kiss, Stupidity- Hero Herald (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
- Bruce And Douglas (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
- The Enemies (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
- A Contrast (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
- The Conquest Of England (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
- Old Donald (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Pain Poems, Mothers Poems, Hair Poems, Kiss Poems, Stupidity PoemsBased on Keywords: prattler, heartbroken, him-oh, near-it, father-i, on-at
- Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - VOL. I. (God - Grotto) (Henry Baker Poems)
- A Congratulatory Epistle From His Holiness The Pope To The Reverend Dr. Snape (Nicholas Amhurst Poems)
- The Carver In Stone (John Drinkwater Poems)
- Queen Mab: Part III. (Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems)
- Andromeda Unfettered (Muriel Stuart Poems)