Page:Poems Curwen.djvu/268

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260
the last of the holidays.

Willie, I wish you would be still,
You keep me in a flutter,
You nearly stepped upon the pie—
There! he's upset the butter.

Father, another cup of tea?
It simply is delicious.
What; time to think of going! Why?"
The weather looks suspicious."

"I fear there'll be a thunderstorm
Before the day is over;
I think our wisest course will be
To make tracks for the "Rover."

Now we are homeward bound. Laugh on,
While I in silence pray
Each dear young voyager may find
Life's sea calm as to-day;

And when at last their voyage ends,
May each frail barque be found
In that great haven God's prepared
For all the "Homeward" bound.