Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/214

96 For he knows the smallest leak may grow
 * To a flood in a single night,

And he knows the strength of the cruel sea
 * When loosed in its angry might.

And the boy! He has seen the danger,
 * And, shouting a wild alarm,

He forces back the weight of the sea
 * With the strength of his single arm.

He listens for the joyful sound
 * Of a footstep passing nigh,

And lays his ear to the ground, to catch
 * The answer to his cry.

And he hears the rough winds blowing,
 * And the waters rise and fall,

But never an answer comes to him,
 * Save the echo of his call.

He sees no hope, no succor;
 * His feeble voice is lost;

Yet what shall he do but watch and wait.
 * Though he perish at his post!

So, faintly calling and crying
 * Till the sun is under the sea,

Crying and moaning till the star
 * Come out for company,

He thinks of his brother and sister,
 * Asleep in their safe warm bed;

He thinks of his father and mother,
 * Of himself as dying—and dead;

And of how, when the night is over,
 * They must come and find him at last:

But he never thinks he can leave the place
 * Where duty holds him fast.

The good dame in the cottage
 * Is up and astir with the light,

For the thought of her little Peter
 * Has been with her all night.

And now she watches the pathway,
 * As yestereve she had done;

But what does she see so strange and black
 * Against the rising sun?