174
FOUR SONGS OF FOUR SEASONS.
Blow thy horn here for us,
Blow the sky clear for us,
Send us the song of the sea to hear.
xiv.
Up, till the scream of it
Wake from a dream of it
Children that sleep,
Seamen that fare for them
Forth, with a prayer for them;
Shall not God care for them,
Angels not keep?
Spare not the surges
Thy stormy scourges;
Spare us the dirges
Of wives that weep.
Turn back the waves for us:
Dig no fresh graves for us,
Wind, in the manifold gulfs of the deep.
