Becalmed - A poem by Ellen P. Allerton

Becalmed.

Adrift in my little boat,
   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.