Poems (Curwen)/Home from Sea
Home from Sea.
Two mothers wept when the vessel sailed Away to the distant main, For many a weary month would pass Ere they'd see their boys again. And well 'tis known the sailor's lot Is ne'er from peril free, For death is oft met face to face Ere men come "home from sea."
'Twas duty called the boys to roam, And duty must be done—And so the brave ship sailed afar, And each mother mourned her son. And the lads? They cheered each other up— Not with talk of the sights they'd see—But with picturing the joy of a future day When they'd be "home from sea."
And the vessel sped upon her way, Freighted with hopes and fears; And ever and ever, night and day, Was followed by mothers' prayers. Through calm and storm and tempest wild Right gallantly she bore, Then one glad day the message came, "They've reached the distant shore."
From place to place, from port to port, Their busy tasks they ply, And in their night-watch talk of home, And for its comforts sigh. Then comes the welcome news—"For home." O, what a joyful sound! Mothers, and wives, and sweethearts know What's meant by "homeward bound."
Back to old England—back again O'er mountains of sea and foam Back through tempest and storm once more To earth's dearest haven—home. Back to a mother's fond embrace— Can sweeter welcome be—Than a mother's arms and a mother's kiss, When lads come "home from sea."
Two happy mothers there are to-night, Both radiant with joy—But my heart goes out to the mothers who wait In vain for some darling boy—Some dear, dear laddie who wrote and said, "Don't worry, dear mother, o'er me, But think of the joy in store for both, When I come 'home from sea.'"
Alas! for the mothers who watch and wait For the tidings they never shall hear; They wait and watch, but never again Will the lads they love appear. O mothers! poor mothers! God comfort you, And when Death shall set you free, May you find, on reaching the "Better Land," That your lads are "home from sea."