The sea is just a cradle wide and deep,-
A cradle that the moon rocks to and fro;
What peace they find who there fall fast asleep,
What lovely dreams,-'Tis not for us to know.

But God hath sent the angel of the sea
To sing to them an endless lullaby;
And that they may not dread night's mystery,
He lights for them the candles of the sky.

They are infolded by the silken waves,
And wrapped in shining blue, and emerald green;
They drift through opalescent ocean caves,
That only God Himself hath ever seen.

The great salt wind that no man holds in thrall,
Touches them softly, as it passes by;-
I think the silver sea gulls know them all,
And greet them with their lonely tender cry.

For but a little little round of years,
The sweet sun-sprinkled foam will be their bed,
And they will slumber-hushed from any fears-
To waken, when the sea gives up her dead.