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AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS 137
Till a wave of mud and fury tore both children from
my clasp Then my wife grew faint and trembly, cold and white
her marble brow, One low whisper, scarcely spoken; "You are all that's
left me now.
"Let your arms enfold me, husband, lay your head
upon my breast, O, our children, may he guide them to a place of peace
and rest; May he spare you to me, darling, to protect"—But
while she spoke Downward rushed a mighty current and my deathlike
grasp was broke.
Down she went, my last sweet darling, she my true and
loving wife, She had been my joy and comfort all along the path of
life. Just as in a dream I stood there till at last a shout
I heard, From some men who stood above me, " Grasp the rope,
we'll help you out."
And before night's sable curtain spread across the
angry wave I was drawn above and rescued from a cold and watery
grave, But my darling wife and children floated on till one by one |
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