Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/104

100 Though yet a smile of joy Sate on his face, while sad and true The roughest tar amid the crew Mourned for the sailor-boy.

Now, sometimes while my watch I keep At lonely midnight, on the deep, When all is calm and clear, I seem to hear his well known voice, "Oh, messmate, make your God your choice.   And to His haven steer."