The Mystery of the Sea

The good ship cleared the harbor bar, And a fair west wind was blowing; The misty mainland, stretching far, O’er the sunlit sea was glowing.

And the captain paused as the deck he paced, While visions of home came o’er him; And a weeping mother his fancy traced In the scenes that passed before him.

And in the cabin with tiny hands Two children together were playing, While a weary mother in mission lands, Heart-sick for them was praying.

Years passed—so long, so lone the time Since the good ship had departed, And in Columbia’s sunny clime Died a mother, broken-hearted.

Years passed—and a mother forlorn, alone, Aweary with waiting and sighing, Afar in India’s burning zone Lay, broken-hearted, dying.

And the cruel, restless, rolling ocean Complains its bitter part; But oh, far down ’neath the waves wild motion Lies the grave of many a heart!