“An’ I would to God,” the skipper groaned,
“I had not my boy with me!”
Snug in the stern-sheets, little John
Laughed as the scud swept by;
But the skipper’s sunburnt cheek grew wan
As he watched the wicked sky.
“Would he were at his mother’s side!”
And the skipper’s eyes were dim.
“Good Lord in heaven, if ill betide,
What would become of him!