And Tom sung in a low, and not unmusical voice,
'Poor Jack saw his bark on the ocean of life
Now sink, now the billows o'ertop,
When despair would present him a bullet or knife,
He lays hold on the anchor of Hope.
'His chest and his trifles may sink in the wave,
Fore and aft a loved messmate may drop,
He may shed a salt tear for the loss of the brave,
But he leans on the anchor of Hope.
'"Heart of oak," sobs he, bluntly, "your fate I deplore,
Ne'er a smarter could splice me a rope,
Still, my lad, we must keep a good look-out afore,
And depend on the anchor of Hope."
Ere Alison could say a word of compliment to Tom on his singing, one of the watch forward cried out,
'Light ahead!'
'Where away?' asked Tom.
'Right ahead, sir.'
'I can't see it.'
'Can't help that, sir—it was there a moment ago, a point or so on the lee bow.'