Identifier: harpersnew0104various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 104 December 1901 to May 1902
Year: 1902 (1900s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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BY JOSEPHINE DODGE DASKAM IT was the burghers daughter,As fair as maid could be,That loved too well the stranger,A man from off the sea. My mother she was a sea maid; My father he loved no shore.Thou must bury me under billoivs, Or thou neer shalt see me more! Shes kissed him lip and forehead; Shes given him her vow: Five-fathom sea shall cover thee, But only love me now! For seven years her sleep is sweetAgainst the sea mans heart. But now hath come my time to die,And now we twain must part. Farewell, my little daughter! Farewell, my bonny son!Last night the waves did call my name; My life on land is done. She holds him close and closer; The bitter tears fall down. Remember now thy maiden vow, Or woe betide this town! Remember the oath ye gave me, Nor. bury me but in sea,For the ocean will come to seelc its own If ye cheat my waves of me! Vol. CIV -No 619.-3
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THE SEA MAN. 29 Now come her haughty sisters; Now comes her father stern. This deed brings little honor For all the world to learn. Our fathers lie in holy ground; Their tombs are carven well;A heathen stranger cast a-sea Were too much shame to tell! Theyve buried him in the minster high That stands beside her door,But the winds o the air have drowned the prayer, And the sea foams up the shore. • • • • • • • Mother, I hear the billows roll; I hear them hiss and moan! Nay, little son, their furys done; Tis but the wind alone. Mother, I smell the salt sea wind; I taste the salt sea spray! Nay, daughter mine, some dream is thine; Ill sing thy fear away. Mother, we cannot hear thy voice; The sea rolls loud and high!It rushes up the minster street And flings the church door by! The waves pour out the windows wide; Theyve washed the altar bare;Theyve torn the flowers from the strangers tomb, And heaped wet sea-weed there! • • • • ■ • 0 ■ It was the burghers daugh

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