AROUND the little cottage,
Across the country lane,
The twilight shadows lengthened,
‘Twas evening once again.
The neat and well-stocked garden,
Tended with loving care,
Sent forth a breath of fragrance
Upon the freshening air.
Close by an open window,
Watching the last faint gleam,
Her eyes fixed on the landscape,
She sat as in a dream;
Her widowed heart was lonely,
No loved one there to cheer;
And in the gathering darkness
She wiped away a tear.
But as she thus sat musing,
A happy look there came —
A radiance o’er those features,
A softly-whispered name;
And drawing forth a letter, —
She knew it all by heart, —
Thought of her boy returning,
Never again to part.
A few short days of waiting,
Her sailor boy would come
To cheer his doting mother,
To bless that cottage home;
To give fresh life and vigor
To her so sad and lone,
To be her joy, her comfort,
To make her world his own.
Her face grew brighter, brighter, —
It was no transient gleam, —
There came no thought of sadness
To chase away the beam;
But onward to the meeting
She looked with joyous thrill,
And so, till night and darkness,
Sat dreaming of him still.
* * * * *
The sun was softly setting,
The waves were bright and blue,
And swiftly through the silence
The seagull screaming flew;
Across the gleaming waters
A golden pathway shone,
And everywhere a radiance
Was o’er the ocean thrown.
The yellow sands were sparkling
Beneath the ruddy glow,
The fair and lovely landscape
Did fairer, brighter grow;
The sky was bathed in glory,
Deep tinged with every shade,
And seemed, though ever changing,
Too beautiful to fade.
A ray of crimson sunlight
Fell in a little cave,
And there, so still and peaceful,
Sport of the fickle wave,
An outstretched form was lying,
The features cold and dead,
While golden beams were playing
Around the youthful head.
A fair yet manly beauty
Was on the changeless face —
There one long look of sadness
Had found a resting-place;
The clustering curls fell darkly
Upon the thoughtful brow, —
The hand that last caressed them
Waits to caress them now.
So full of life, but lately
Buoyant with sailor glee,
The blue eyes, calm and fearless,
Lovingly scan the sea;
A hurricane swift and awful
Passes across the deep,
And winds and waves are quickly
Rocking the boy to sleep.
Lower the sun, yet lower
The last faint ray was there,
Lighting those placid features,
So sad, so calm, so fair;
And ever through the stillness
Murmured the sea’s deep tone,
The seagull’s cry yet wailing
Over the dead alone.
* * * * *
Each evening in the twilight
The widow leaves her home,
And slowly to the churchyard
Still does she feebly come
There, by a dark green hillock,
She stands with chasten’d joy,
And knows she soon shall meet them:
Her husband and her boy.
W. J. W.