POETRY.
WATCHERS OF THE COAST.
Mho Welsh fishers believe that every reef and shoal is guarded by the souls of the last crew drowned thereon, who warn their com- rades of the danger till a new wreck relieves them.] Wrm every wave that lips the land I hear him calling me: I see his face in the driven foam, My boy that's lost at sea :
And when the boats put seaward now
I neither weep nor pray, But only gaze dry-eyed and still Across the crowded bay. • Eastward and Westward girding England round, .
On every shoal and reef and cape where sailormen lie drowned There sit the Watchers of the Coast, wailing thro' the dark, The wardens of the outer reefs where there's neither light nor mark.
It's chill and cold on the Coffin Reef, That's neither land nor sea, But wild white surf and lean green weed And sea-scud spinning free, But the poor drowned souls must keep their watch Their comrades all to warn, And—my boy was drowned on the Coffin Reef A week last Friday morn.
Northward and Southward in every English sea Every time a boat goes down the Watchers there go free, For the newly dead take up the watch, the nightly call and cry, To bid their comrades turn again and pass the breakers by.
And I cannot lie in my bed o' nights, Nor relish fire nor meat, To think of my boy on the Coffin Reef In the dark and the drifting sleet.
And I dare not pray to the Mother of God, For I know I should pray to hear That a boat had struck on the Coffin Reef And freed the soul of my dear.
Oh! Leeward and Windward and all four airts o' the sea,
The curse of God be upon ye all, ye ha' taken my boy from me.
Ye have killed my love for God and man, my wish to live or die; Ye have made me one of the waiting souls that can only wail and cry.
J. H. KNIGIIT-ADEIN, Capt.
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