'O come, thou John Evangelist,
Thou'rt welcome unto me,
But more welcome my own dear Son
Whom I nursed on my knee.'
Then he laid his head 'pon his right shoulder
Seein death it struck him nigh;
'The holy Mother be with your soul—
I die, Mother, I die.'
O the rose, the gentle rose,
An the fennel that grows so green!
God gi'e us grace in every place
To pray for our king an' queen.
Furthermore, for our enemies all
Our prayers they should be strong;
Amen, good Lord; your charity
Is the endin' of my song!
In the midst of this carol Ruby, with a light pull on Zeb's arm, brought him to a halt.
"How lovely it all is, Zeb!" She looked upwards at the flying moon, then dropped her gaze over the frosty sea, and sighed gently. "Just now I feel as if I'd been tossin' out yonder through many fierce days an' nights an' were bein' taken at last to a safe haven. You'll have to make a good wife of me, Zeb. I wonder if you'll do 't."
Zeb followed the direction of her eyes, and seemed to discern off Bradden Point a dot of white, as of a ship in sail. He pressed her arm to his side, but said nothing.
"Clear your throats, friends," shouted his father, up the road, "an' let fly—"
As I sat on a sunny bank,
—A sunny bank, a sunny bank,
As I sat on a sunny bank
On Chris'mas day i' the mornin,
I saw dree ships come sailin' by,
—A-sailin' by, a-sailin' by,
I saw dree ships come sailin' by
On Chris'mas day i' the mornin'.