William at Sea

Whilst thou art away, where the proud waves are swelling
Beneath thy light bark, ever mindful of thee,
The days of thine absence, at home we are telling,
And counting the hours of our William at sea.

And thou, whether cradled to sleep by the billow,
Or watching the sport of the spray and the foam,
If pensive on deck, or in dreams on thy pillow,
We know hast thy soul rapt with visions of home.

We know, when the sun mounts the east in his glory,
Or smiles a "good night," as the west he descends,
Thy heart, pointing back to itself tells the story
Of mansion paternal, and kindred and friends.

And when at the morning and evening devotion,
While bending with offerings of praise and of prayer,
To God we commend thee afar on the ocean,
We feel thou art kneeling for us to him there.

While months on the waters, long months are before thee,
The two fluid worlds thou art tossing between—
The cold deep below, and the skies bending o'er thee,
Alone by their changes will vary the scene.

Or, if a bright isle, on the flood-waste upstarting,
Rude ocean's green oasis, rest thy glad eye,
'T will fade as a cloud—as a phantom departing,
'T will sink in the circle that bounds sea and sky.

Should some white-winged ship, with her light pennon streaming,
Thy heart on that wide watery desert to cheer,
Arise, like a star through night's solitude beaming,
With meteor swiftness she'll soon disappear.

And when the coy sea-bird, a wild ether-sailor,
Comes near on her passage, for one language more,
O! how wilt thou long, ere she flies thee, to hail her,
To ask whither bound, and the tidings from shore!

Yet, while so unstable, so pathless and lonely,
Thy way o'er that desolate deep may be found,
'T is marked with the impress of Deity only;
His merciful arms will thy frailty surround.

'Tis grand, 't is ennobling, while feeling and knowing
His presence is power, and his banner is love,
To look from that flood, to the firmament showing
Bright shadowings-forth of his glory above.

And, William, though tempest and terrors assail thee—
Though clouds rolled on clouds hide the stars and the sun,
Thy soul's chosen Friend never, never will fail thee!
Winds and waves but obey that omnipotent ONE.

While o'er and around thee thick darkness may gather;
When wide yawns the deep, and the surges swell high,
Thy spirit may hear the kind voice of her Father,
Still whispering, "Be of good cheer; it is I."

And safe may he bear thee through perils and changes
Besetting his course, who so widely would roam,
Then speed thy return from the land of the Ganges,
From pagod and painim! Dear William, come home.

Come home, where the eyes beam through tears to behold thee;
Where arms open wide to receive thee will be;
And promise, while yet to the heart they infold thee
To be, never after, our William at sea!