A Sailor’s Departure Poem by James Ephraim McGirt

My dearest child, I have no wealth to give you,
No ring of gold to you can I impart;
Going, yet why should going grieve you?
You have my heart.

In calm, in storm, no matter how the weather,
My one great thought shall ever be of thee;
Tell me, I pray thee, tell me whether
You'll think of me?

Without your love I wish my burden lighter;
With head bowed low I plod life's weary way,
But with your love each day is brighter,
To toil is play.

The ship has come, I must no longer tarry;
The lamp of love for you will ever burn;
Farewell, pray let your soul be merry,
Soon I'll return.

When I return, what e'er may be my treasure—
That happy day I pray God that we meet—
My life, my all, I'll cast with pleasure
Down at your feet.

He said 'Good-bye'—the tears were swiftly falling—
The ship moved off, she left alone to dwell;
The signal as they sounded pealing
Their last farewell.