When you are on the sea

How can I laugh or dance as others do,

Or ply my rock or reel?

My heart will still return to dreams of you

Beside my spinning-wheel.

My little dog he cried out in the dark,

He would not whisht for me:

I took him to my side—why did he bark

When you were on the sea?

I fear the red cock—if he crow to-night—

I keep him close and warm,

’Twere ill with me, if he should wake in fright

And you out in the storm.

I dare not smile for fear my laugh would ring

Across your dying ears;

O, if you, drifting, drowned, should hear me sing

And think I had not tears.

I never thought the sea could wake such waves,

Nor that such winds could be;

I never wept when other eyes grew blind

For some one on the sea.

But now I fear and pray all things for you,

How many dangers be!

I set my wheel aside, what can I do

When you are on the sea?