Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/213

Rh And saw the shadows deepen,
 * And birds to their homes come back,

But never a sign of Peter
 * Along the level track.

But she said, "He will come at morning,
 * So I need not fret or grieve;

Though it isn't like my boy at all
 * To stay without my leave."

But where was the child delaying?
 * On the homeward way was he,

And across the dike, while the sun was up
 * An hour above the sea.

He was stopping, now to gather flowers,
 * Now listening to the sound,

As the angry waters dashed themselves
 * Against their narrow bound.

"Ah! well for us," said Peter;
 * "That the gates are good and strong,

And my father tends them carefully,
 * Or they would not hold you long!

You're a wicked sea," said Peter:
 * "I know why you fret and chafe;

You would like to spoil our lands and homes;
 * But our sluices keep you safe!"

But hark! Through the noise of waters
 * Comes a low, clear, trickling sound;

And the child's face pales with terror,
 * And his blossoms drop to the ground.

He is up the bank in a moment,
 * And, stealing through the sand,

He sees a stream not yet so large
 * As his slender, childish hand.

'Tis a leak in the dike! He is but a boy,
 * Unused to fearful scenes;

But, young as he is, he has learned to know
 * The dreadful thing that means.

A leak in the dike! The stoutest heart
 * Grows faint that cry to hear,

And the bravest man in all the land
 * Turns white with mortal fear.