Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/96

92 By that deep thrill, when first thy lip Its lisping utterance tried, Or when the evening prayer it breathed Thy little bed beside,

By the strong hope that never dies Within a mother's heart, I bless thee, wanderer of the deep, While tears of anguish start.

What though no gems, or hoarded gold To swell thy stores, I bring, A Parent's blessing maketh strong, Like guardian angel's wing.

Yes—thou shalt feel when o'er the wave Thy bark by storms is driven, A Parent's blessing maketh glad Next to the hope of Heaven.

Seek thou that hope to gird thy soul Amid the tossing brine,