Page:Flower of youth, poems in war time, Tynan, 1915.djvu/66

64 Yet the ships they go crowding

The roads of the sea;

They bring home their treasures

To you and to me.

O listen, good people,

And hearing, praise God,

That the watch-dogs are keeping

The ships on their road!

They sit watchful and steady

Where the North winds blow;

Sleepless they are keeping

The roads the ships go.

In the day, in the hour,

They will spring—until then,

Their eyes keep the courses

Of the merchantmen.

Forget not, good people,

When ye heap the white board,

When ye draw to the hearth-fire,

To praise the Lord,