Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/102

98 No draught he took to cheer his mind, The temperance pledge he early signed, Nor from that promise roved; In every duty free from blame, Blow high, blow low, 'twas all the same, Still happy, and beloved.

But once, upon a sultry shore The burning fever smote him sore, And when he shipped again, Still to this sad disease a prey, He wasted like the snows away, And all our care was vain.

So with weak hand, he took the key From out his chest and gave it me; "This to my mother take, My little all, to her I leave, And tell her not too much to grieve,   For her lost sea-boy's sake.