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FISHERMEN'S MEMORIAL AND RECORD BOOK. 



COD BLESS THE FISHERMEN. 



BY CELLS. 



God bless the fishermen 1 God be their guide, 

 And pilot them safely o'er the dark rolling tide ; 

 Calm the fierce winds and still the deep sea; 

 Watch them and guard them where'er they 



may be ; 



For their life is at best a perilous one 

 And the little they gain, how dearly 'tis won I 



Around them wild dashes the white seething 



foam; 

 Yet they cheerfully toil for the dear ones at 



home, 

 Oh, scorn not the fishermen, greet them with 



love, 



And ask for their welfare a boon from above. 

 Their lot is a hard one ; their home's on the 



wave, 

 And oft 'neath the sea they find a grave. 



Love them sincerely, be to them kind; 

 Their friendship's the truest you ever can find. 

 Oh, once the sad heart, now a desolate fane, 

 Was Written all over with a fisherman's name. 



You ask why I love them ; I'll tell you why, 

 Although it shall wring from me many a sigh. 



Alas, It gives me a keen, bitter pain 



To speak of the lost one I'll ne'er meet again ; 



Oh I the loved one, the lost one, where is he 



The cold sea is laving his manly brow; 



For he sleeps in old ocean, his grave's in the 



tide; 

 He went to his death in the lost " Neptune's 



Bride." 



And since that sad night, my heart's fervent 



prayer 



Goes up for the fishermen everywhere. 

 God save the fishermen I may he be their guide, 

 And pilot them safely o'er the dark rolling 



tide. 

 Oh I calm the fierce winds, and still the deep 



sea; 

 Watch them and guard them, where'er they 



may be. 



IN SIGHT OF HOME. 



BY MRS. SUSIE MERCHANT. 



Roll on, O ocean ! tell the same sad story 

 Of fond hearts crushed by thy resistless flow ; 



Of all the hopes deep buried 'neath thy waters 

 We ne'er in time, can ever, ever know. 



Tell of the night, when dark and dreary, 

 And tempests raged upon the waters deep ; 



Tell to the loved one sadly waiting 

 And having lost all hope, can only weep. 



Tell, when the tempest at its highest, 

 " With no eye to pity and no arm to save, " 



The one her heart has ever held as dearest, 

 Found 'neath thy troubled waves his ocean 

 grave. 



Tell how the last prayer that he offered 

 Was, " Father, keep my wife and little one; 



Oh, may she know how tenderly I loved her 

 And that I died when just in sight of home ! " 



