THE SEA-BOY.
��" UP to the main top-mast ho !"
The storm was loud,
And the deep midnight muffled up her head, Leaving no ray. By the red binnacle I saw the sea-boy. His young cheek was pale, And his lip trembled. But he dared not hear That hoarse command repeated. So he sprang With slender foot, amid the slippery shrouds.
He, oft, by moonlight watch, had lured my ear With everlasting stories of his home And of his mother. His fair brow told tales Of household kisses, and of gentle hands That bound it when it ached, and laid it down On the soft pillow, with a curtaining care. And he had sometimes spoken of the cheer That waited him, when wearied from his school, At winter's eve he came. Then he would pause, For his high-beating bosom threw a chain O'er his proud lip, or else it would have sighed A deep remorse for leaving such a home. And he would haste away, and pace the deck More rapidly, as if to hide from me The gushing tear. I marked the inward strife
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