Becalmed on the cold, gray sea___
And chill mists lazily float
All over my boat and me.
The breezes lie dead asleep___
Not a breath in the idle sails!
And I wearily watch and weep,
And listen for distant gales.
Shall I still drop useless tears,
And sit here and wait and wait,
Till my beard grows gray with years,
For the wind that may come too late?
To be idle is shame to the strong!
I will lay my hand to the oar;
And the craft that has waited long,
Shall wait for the wind no more.
__Ellen P. Allerton.
Walls of Corn and Other Poems
Ellen P. Allerton
(Hiawatha, KS: Harrington Printing Company. 1894)