TWO MOTHERS

One night two lonely women met

Beside a storm-swept bay;

With tears their mournful eyes were wet,

Their pale lips salt with spray;

They passed; then turned, as though each yearned

Some friendly word to say.

“Poor soul”, cried one, “hast thou no fear

To walk this haunted strand?

What hopeless sorrow brings thee here,

Where dead men drift to land?

I too have grief beyond relief;

Speak! I can understand.”

“I mourn a son”, the other said;

“That ocean is his grave;

My heart will not be comforted,

It breaks with every wave;

Would I might sleep in yonder deep

With him I could not save!

“The wind was raging, as to-night;

Straight on these rocks it blew;

I watched until the dawning light

Disclosed the wreck to view;

From where we stand I saw his hand

Wave me a last adieu!

“He deemed the boat too frail to bear

Another living freight;

‘ Push off’! he said with tranquil air,

‘ Go first, and I will wait;’

But all the while, despite his smile,

He knew‘ twould be too late.

“That heartless crew shall nevermore

God's absolution find!

They watched, like cravens, from the shore

The man they left behind

Go down before the breakers’ roar,

The surges and the wind!

“Hence, when such maddened tempests rave,

I cannot rest at home,

For then the billows deck his grave

With flowers of snow-white foam;

And here I pray till break of day

Beneath night's starless dome.”

A silence fell; then, faint and low,

The other, weeping, said;

“My heavier woe thou needst not know;

Within his ocean bed

On thy son's name there rests no shame;

Would God that mine were dead!”