Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Harry LymanKoopman1380 Sea and Shore
O
So dear, they die, not dying for thee;
Yet are thy fondest, tenderest ones
Thy wanderers far at sea.
Till custom makes it almost fair;
Sweet grow the splintering gales to them,
The icy gloom, the scorching glare.
They see not, save through homesick tears,
Or when thy smile, through battle-pall,
Pays death and all their painful years.
Through softer lips than those of steel;
Rust gathers on the iron prow,
And shore weeds clog the resting keel;
Our lives, for life and death, are thine:
Sweet are long years, and peaceful breath,
And sunny age beneath its vine;
(O Mother, seen at last again!)
That smile the dying see thee wear,
Choosing thine own among the slain.
And, being thine, we will be true;
Where’er thou callest, on field or wave,
We wait, thy will to do.