Sonnet To My First Born Poem by Mary Weston Fordham

Oh! waves in the sunlight gleaming,
Oh! billows with ceaseless roar,
Bring back to this aching heart of mine,
The laddie you bore long ago.
Far out on your restless bosom,
Far away from his boy-hood's home,
I charge you waves of the deep, blue sea
To bid my wanderer come.

Oh! stars in the heavens twinkling
Like lamps hung up in the sky,
Oh! moon look down through the darkness,
His trysting-place you may descry.
Then tell him a fond heart is aching,
In love for the dear one she bore,
Oh! surely to thee he will hearken,
And haste to his own cottage door.

The winds of the autumn are sighing,
The leaves from the trees falling fast,
The roses that erstwhile were blooming,
Say mournfully-Summer is past.
The daisies have long ago slumbered,
Their blossoms I search for in vain;
But surely for thee I will look, love,
Ere spring time brings them again.

When the Frost-King's robe is glistening
O'er hill, and valley, and glen,
When the bright sleigh-bells are jingling,
I know he'll come to me then.
So sunlight, or starlight, or moonlight,
Wherever my truant you see,
Just tell him you left me a-waiting
Far over the deep blue sea.