A SHIP lay becalmed on the ocean—
Of all beautiful, helpless things!
She lay like a wounded sea-bird
With motionless, snow-white wings.
Day after day had she lain there
With never a sail in sight;
A cloudless sky above her
Morning and noon and night.
Precious and rare was the cargo
Hidden deep in her hold,
To be borne to a Northern market
And changed into yellow gold.
But naught was that to the captain
Pacing the hot deck there,
To the little wife who was with him,
And the child with his sunny hair,
The child who under the awning
Lay moaning his life away,
The child who was going to leave him
Ere the close of that weary day.
There was another on that good ship
Whose race was nearly run,
A bronzed and grizzled sailor
Who would die ere the set of sun.
And they two had loved each other—
The sailor old and gray,
And dear little baby Georgie
Whose life was a summer day.
Was it only a childish fancy—
Or because he was worn and sad
That the sinful, weary pilgrim
Had been loved by the little lad?
A weak voice calls the captain:
"Papa, won't you please come here?"
"I am here—I am listening to you,
What is it, Georgie dear?"
"Papa, I want to see Jack,
And Jack wants to see me so—
Mamma says I am going to leave you,
I must see him before I go.
"Jack says that he has been wicked,
But I have been wicked too;
I think if God forgives me
He'll forgive him too, don't you?
"I taught him the prayer our Saviour said
And my last best little hymn,
And I think Jack is sorry,
So I sha'n't worry for him.
"But, papa, if they could bring him
And lay him down here by me,
And I might keep fast hold of his hand,
I could take him to Heaven with me."
They brought the grim old sailor
Whose life was so sad and wild,
And laid him under the awning
By the side of the little child.
When the sun passed his meridian
Little Georgie went away;
The old man lived till round and red
He dipped at the close of day.
But ere he went his faltering tongue
This prayer sent up from the sea:
"For Georgie's sake—for the sake of Thy Son,
Be merciful to me!"
They treasured the small white body
With its quiet little feet,
But they gave to the brown old sailor
A sailor's winding-sheet.
There came at length a blessed breeze
That filled the limp white sail
And tightened the creaking halyards
With the strength of a fair fresh gale.
So it came to pass as all things do,
That one fair and sunny day,
Proud and staunch in the harbor
The ship at her anchor lay.
But the captain bent to the sad white face
That rested against his arm,
And said, "Dear wife, little Georgie
Is safe from all sin and harm;
"His life was bright and beautiful,
With nothing its joy to dim,
He gladdened the heart of a sinful man,
And—'took him to Heaven with him.'
"We will bury his dust, little mother,
Under the trees at home,
But Georgie beholds the face of Him
Who said: 'Let the children come.'"
Emily Baker Smalle.