PICTURES FROM THE SEA
Cunard Steamship Pavonia, July 25th, 1896.
A sky that was black and starless,—
A sea high-flecked with foam,—
A shattered ship 'mid the tempest wild,
Afar from the lights of home;
Where the bravest ones were helpless,
And strong, true hearts grew weak,
While ever the night grew darker
And the tossing waves more bleak.
A sea high-flecked with foam,—
A shattered ship 'mid the tempest wild,
Afar from the lights of home;
Where the bravest ones were helpless,
And strong, true hearts grew weak,
While ever the night grew darker
And the tossing waves more bleak.
A morn that was gay with sunshine,
Skies bright with the blue of June,
While the waters calm in their beauty,
Make a part of the day's glad tune;—
But alas, for the brave ship shattered
With never a hand to save,
And alas, for the dear ones resting
Far down in a watery grave.
Skies bright with the blue of June,
While the waters calm in their beauty,
Make a part of the day's glad tune;—
But alas, for the brave ship shattered
With never a hand to save,
And alas, for the dear ones resting
Far down in a watery grave.
Poor little homes by the seashore,—
Women sad and pale with care,
With faces grown old through hope deferred,
And the grief of unanswered prayer,—
Thus ever and often the story,—
The sorrowful, heart-broken wives,
And the poor little desolate children,
With the father-love gone from their lives.
Women sad and pale with care,
With faces grown old through hope deferred,
And the grief of unanswered prayer,—
Thus ever and often the story,—
The sorrowful, heart-broken wives,
And the poor little desolate children,
With the father-love gone from their lives.
How the world's great heart grows tender
When the pitiful tales are told,
And the shielding wings of a brooding love
The sad little orphans enfold.
Oh, well for the hearts that are loving,
And well for the helping hands,
That working at one with the angels,
Bind the earth with sympathy's bands.
When the pitiful tales are told,
And the shielding wings of a brooding love
The sad little orphans enfold.
Oh, well for the hearts that are loving,
And well for the helping hands,
That working at one with the angels,
Bind the earth with sympathy's bands.
Thus the wail of the wind-tossed billows,
Bears ever and ever the cry
Of these orphans mourning the fathers,
Who gallantly dare and die.
Let us share in the work of cheering,
Let us reach the helping hand,
To these little ones of our Father,
On their way to the heavenly land.
Bears ever and ever the cry
Of these orphans mourning the fathers,
Who gallantly dare and die.
Let us share in the work of cheering,
Let us reach the helping hand,
To these little ones of our Father,
On their way to the heavenly land.