Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By BarrettEastman1604 Richard Somers
H
Afar from his beloved land,
And over him shine tropic suns;
No more he thrills at sound of guns,
No longer, cutlass in his hand,
Cries, “Follow me!” and goes before.
Athirst and fainting with the noon;
Around him drowsy lizards crawl.
No more he hears the boatswain’s call,
Nor sees the waters rock the moon,
Nor smells the keen and salty breeze.
Calling to him from mighty deeps,
Yearning for him who loved the main.
Never shall he make sail again;
Under the restless sands he sleeps,
He is at rest, he cannot hear.
On that great day when all shall rise,
And earth and sea give up their dead,
Then out from his unquiet bed
Where now heroic S
His soul will leap to Ocean’s arms!