" O sailor, tell me, tell me true,
Is my little lad — my Elihu —
A sailing in your ship? "
The sailor's eyes were dimmed with dew.
" Your little lad? your Elihu? "
He said with trembling lip;
" What little lad — what ship? "

What little lad? — as if there could be
Another such a one as he!
" What little lad, do you say? "
" Why, Elihu, that took to the sea
The moment I put him off my knee.
It was just the other day
The Gray Swan sailed away. "

The other day? The sailor's eyes
Stood wide open with surprise.
" The other day? — the Swan? "
His heart began in his throat to rise.
" Ay, ay, sir; here in the cupboard lies
The jacket he had on. "
" And so your lad is gone! " —

" Gone with the Swan . " " And did she stand
With her anchor clutching hold of the sand,
For a month, and never stir? "
" Why, to be sure! I've seen from the land,
Like a lover kissing his lady's hand,
The wild sea kissing her —
A sight to remember, sir. "

" But, my good mother, do you know,
All this was twenty years ago?
I stood on the Gray Swan 's deck,
And to that lad I saw you throw —
Taking it off, as it might be so —
The kerchief from your neck. "
" Ay, and he'll bring it back. "

" And did the little lawless lad,
That has made you sick, and made you sad,
Sail with the Gray Swan 's crew? "
" Lawless! the man is going mad;
The best boy mother ever had;
Be sure, he sailed with the crew —
What would you have him do? "

" And he has never written line,
Nor sent you word, nor made you sign,
To say he was alive? "
" Hold — if 'twas wrong, the wrong is mine;
Besides, he may be in the brine;
And could he write from the grave?
Tut, man! what would you have? "

" Gone twenty years! a long, long cruise;
'Twas wicked thus your love to abuse;
But if the lad still live,
And come back home, think you you can
Forgive him? " " Miserable man!
You're mad as the sea; you rave —
What have I to forgive? "

The sailor twitched his shirt so blue,
And from within his bosom drew
The kerchief. She was wild:
" My God! — my Father! — is it true?
My little lad — my Elihu?
And is it? — is it? is it you?
My blessed boy — my child —
My dead — my living child! "