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Poem

The women of the sailors, unto them, O God, be kind!
They never hear the breaking waves, they never hear the wind
But that their hearts are anguish-tossed-, and every thought’s a fear,
For the women of the sailors it’s a bitter time of year.

The women of the sailors, unto them, O God, be good!
‘Tis they who know and understand how frail are steel and wood;
‘Tis they who never see the spray upon a rock-bound coast
But what they breathe a prayer to Thee for those that love them most.

The women of the sailors, unto them, O God, be nigh!
They never hear the hurricane but that it means a sigh;
They never hear the tempest but that they pray to
Thee For the safety of their loved ones who are battling with the sea.

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