The very waves that washed the sand 
Below him he had seen before 
Whitening the Scandinavian strand 
And sultry Mauritanian shore, 
From ice-rimmed isles, from summer seas 
Palm-fringed, they brought him messages. 
WHITTIER. 
oa Dutsyet 
I feel for mariners of stormy nights, 
And feel for wives that watch ashore. Ay, ay, 
If I had learning I would pray the Lord 
To bring them in. 
But I make bold to say, “O Lord, good Lord, 
IT am a broken-down poor man, a fool 
To speak to thee. But in the book ’tis writ, 
As | hear say from others that can read, 
How when thou camest thou didst love the sea, 
And live with fisher folk, whereby ’tis sure 
Thou knowest all the peril they go through 
And all their trouble.” 
JEAN INGELOW. 
98 
