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TO THE SHIP NORTHERN EMPIRE.
73
Stand firm, my boy, with all thy noble daring;
Gaze not aloft to see the bending mast;
But trust in Him, the great, the ever-caring;
He'll help thee safely to outride the blast.

And time seems but a dream since thou wert given,
A dimpled babe, pure from thy Maker's hand;
Ah! now I trust in the decree of Heaven
To guard the same the water as the land.
Never again, O, never may I wander
Near thy pillow for the good-night kiss—
There are themes I do not dare to ponder;
One of the tenderest, I'm sure, is this.

Queenly ship! how many thou art holding,
Round whom the tendrils of affection cling;
How many throbbing hearts are now enfolding
The loved thou bearest, thou stately thing!
Changed the happy homes which rang with gladness,
When children played around their father's knee;
Upon their brows there rests a look of sadness,
Tinged with the same are all their songs of glee.

Now, farewell to this unfinished story;
Farewell, sweet dreams of happy days by-gone;
Sail, fair ship, in all your pride and glory,
A wreath is waiting when the voyage is done.
Affection's wreath shall ever be unbroken;
While life remains, we'll keep it fresh for thee:
The deepest thought, alas, remains unspoken,
For those who wander on the dark blue sea.