Page:Poems and ballads (IA balladspoems00swinrich).pdf/190

 Blow thy horn here for us, Blow the sky clear for us, Send us the song of the sea to hear.

Roll the strong stream of it Up, till the scream of it Wake from a dream of it Children that sleep, Seamen that fare for them Forth, with a prayer for them; Shall not God care for them, Angels not keep? Spare not the surges Thy stormy scourges; Spare us the dirges Of wives that weep. Turn back the waves for us: Dig no fresh graves for us, Wind, in the manifold gulfs of the deep.