And, as he shuts his weary eyes,
On the poor ship he thinks.

The sun shines o'er the watery main
As it did the day before;
The father and his son again
Are seated on the shore.

With the western wind full many a boat
Their white sails gayly fill,
They lightly o'er the blue waves float,--
But the gallant ship is still.

The sailors now the mournful wreck
Of masts and rigging strip;
The waves are playing o'er the deck
Of the sad and ruined ship.

A crow upon the top branch stood
Of a lone and blasted tree;
He seemed to look upon the flood
With a gloomy sympathy.

The boy now looks up at the bird,
At the sinking vessel now;
He does not speak a single word.
But a shade is on his brow.

Now slowly comes a towering wave,
And sweeps with triumph on;