THE wind is out in its rage tonight, And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and white But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low, Waves of the briny deep; Seethe low and breathe low, But sleep you, my little one, sleep, sleep. The little boat rocks in the cove no more, But the flying sea-gulls wail; I peer through the darkness that wraps the shore, For sight of a home set sail. Heave ho, weave low, Waves of the briny deep; Seethe low and breathe low, But sleep you, my little one, sleep, sleep. Ay, lad of mine, thy father may die In the gale that rides the sea, But we'll not believe it, not you and I, Who mind us of Galilee. Heave ho, weave low, Waves of the briny deep; Seethe low and breathe low, But sleep you, my little one, sleep, sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 14 by OMAR KHAYYAM SONG (10) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 94 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AMERICA by JAMES MONROE WHITFIELD SONNET: 16 by RICHARD BARNFIELD OCTOBER by MARIE DAVIES WARREN BECKNER TO THE MEMORY OF MY DEAR DAUGHTER IN LAW by ANNE BRADSTREET ON THE LOSS OF A PIOUS FRIEND by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |