“A sailor’s wife I knew a widow’s cares, 595
  Yet two sweet little ones partook my bed;
  Hope cheered my dreams, and to my daily prayers
  Our heavenly Father granted each day’s bread;
  Till one was found by stroke of violence dead,
  Whose body near our cottage chanced to lie; 600
  A dire suspicion drove us from our shed;
  In vain to find a friendly face we try,
  Nor could we live together those poor boys and I;

LXVIII

  “For evil tongues made oath how on that day
  My husband lurked about the neighbourhood; 605
  Now he had fled, and whither none could say,
  And he had done the deed in the dark wood—­
  Near his own home!—­but he was mild and good;
  Never on earth was gentler creature seen;
  He’d not have robbed the raven of its food. 610
  My husband’s loving kindness stood between
  Me and all worldly harms and wrongs however keen.”

LXIX

  Alas! the thing she told with labouring breath
  The Sailor knew too well.  That wickedness
  His hand had wrought; and when, in the hour of death, 615
  He saw his Wife’s lips move his name to bless
  With her last words, unable to suppress
  His anguish, with his heart he ceased to strive;
  And, weeping loud in this extreme distress,
  He cried—­“Do pity me!  That thou shouldst live 620
  I neither ask nor wish—­forgive me, but forgive!”

LXX

  To tell the change that Voice within her wrought
  Nature by sign or sound made no essay;
  A sudden joy surprised expiring thought,
  And every mortal pang dissolved away. 625
  Borne gently to a bed, in death she lay;
  Yet still while over her the husband bent,
  A look was in her face which seemed to say,
  “Be blest:  by sight of thee from heaven was sent
  Peace to my parting soul, the fulness of content.” 630

LXXI

She slept in peace,—­his pulses throbbed and stopped, Breathless he gazed upon her face,—­then took Her hand in his, and raised it, but both dropped, When on his own he cast a rueful look.  His ears were never silent; sleep forsook 635 His burning eyelids stretched and stiff as lead; All night from time to time under him shook The floor as he lay shuddering on his bed; And oft he groaned aloud, “O God, that I were dead!”

LXXII