fisher]\ien's memorial and record book. 



145 



A WAIF. 



BT H. C. L. HASKELL. 



The autumn day 



Rich in its regal beauty lay 



Over headland and beach and sea, 



And the voice of the waves eang dreamily 



A sweet, low tale to the listening ear; 



A tale, as if never a breath of fear, 



Or shadow of Borrow, could cloud the blue, 



Or darken the sunlight glinting through 



The mellow air. It was fair, I ween, 



That autumn sunlight, that harbor scene, 



As over the waves, that golden day, 



A trim bark sailed on Its voyage away. 



Gloucester town 



Lies where the winter sunbeams down 

 On its roofs and spires are shining bright, 

 On the tall masts showing slim and bare, 



On Stage Head Battery, and where 



Gleams the tower of Ten Pound Island light: 



Eut never again to Gloucester town. 



Around the Point and up to the town 



Ynil the good bark glide, that sailed away 



In the dreamy hush of that autumn day. 



There 're those who'll waitand watch and weep, 



And gaze afar o'er the heaving deep. 



And wish for the loved to come once more — 



For the bark to sail for Cape Ann's shore. 



Ah I none may know in the sea-girt town 



Uow or when that staunch bark went down 



For those who within her sailed the main 



Never will come to port again. 



Father of goodness and mercy be 



"With those who mourn for the lost at flea I 



