Oh, the long days passed near the ocean's roar.
For him on whom I leaned in hope and trust,
Proved but coarse clay that crumbled soon to dust.
Drinking and gambling, sharks that swallow whole,
Homes, jewels, money, reason, body, soul.
Alone, for weeks to hear none call my name,
And happier alone; then baby came,
My firstborn, precious boy, I lived for him
For months; then his bright eyes grew dim,
And where the reeds and grass grew rank and wild,
We made a grave for Willie, darling child.
Ah, well I ween the night we laid him there,
I went to watch his grave; day had been fair,
But eve came up with thunder's muttered growl,
And ever and anon the lightning's scowl
Flashed angrily upon me as I viewed
The breakers dashing on the sea beach rude.
I grew passionate amid the whirlwind's sigh,
It had no word of comfort, loud was its cry,
And deep, dark was the struggle of my soul,
As I watched the billows onward roll.
There came no ray of hope across my breast,
As I turned toward my place of wild unrest;
I looked in vain for calmness, up on high,
It was not God's time for rainbows in the sky.
I went again next eve; there was no storm,
The full moon lighted up each darkening form;
'Twas the glory of a summer's bloom,
And I went onward to my baby's tomb.
I laid fresh flowers above the cold in death,