Your old man's a sailor, I suppose? . . . -A fisherman. A long time dead. He left my mother's side one night, And sleeps in the breakers now instead. Up in the graveyard there's a tomb Ma keeps for him-it's empty, though- I'm all the husband that she has To help her while the children grow. Two little ones. -Nothing was found Along the beach where he was drowned? . . . -Only his pipe-case and a shoe . . . When Sundays come, Mother can stop And cry for rest . . . But when I grow up I'll get revenge-a sailor too! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG POUR QUI SAIT ATTENDRE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO NIMUE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT OLD HOUSE by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: WARNINGS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |