Straight across the bay he went, into sunset steering.
Every day we look for him, and hope for his returning,
Every night my mother keeps the candle for him burning.
"Summer goes, and winter comes, and spring returns but never
Father's step comes to the gate. O, is he gone forever?
The great, grand ship that bore him off, think you some tempest wrecked her?"
Tears shone in little Rose's eyes, upturned to her protector.
Eagerly the bonny boy went on: "O, sir, look yonder!
In the offing see the sails that east and westward wander;
Every hour they come and go, the misty distance thronging.