Volume 2 — The Drowned Sailor

By MAURICE HEWLETT.

[From "Sing Songs of the War."]

Last night I saw my true love stand

All shadowy by my bed.

He had my locket in his hand;

I knew that he was dead.

"Sweetheart, why stand you there so fast,

Why stand you there so grave?"

"I think," said he, "this hour's the last

That you and I can have.

"You gave me this from your fair breast,

It's never left me yet;

And now it dares not seek the nest

Because it is so wet.

"The cold gray sea has covered it,

Deep in the sand it lies;

While over me the long weeds flit

And veil my staring eyes.

"And there are German sailors laid

Beside me in the deep;

We have no need of gun nor blade,

United in our sleep."

"Dear heart, dear heart, come to my bed,

My arms are warm and sweet!"

"Alack for you, my love," he said,

"My limbs would wet the sheet.

"Cold is the bed that I lie on

And deep beneath the swell;

No voice is left to make my moan

And bid my love farewell."

Now I am widow that was wife—

Would God that they could prove

What law should rule, without the strife

That's robbed me of my love!