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THE FAR-FARERS 87
THE broad sun,
The bright day: White sails
On the blue bay: The far-f arers
Light the fires
And close the door. To the old homes,
To the loved shore, The far-farers
Return no more.
COME, MY LITTLE CHILDREN, HERE ARE SONGS FOR YOU
COME, my little children, here are songs for you; Some are short and some are long? and all, all are new. You must learn to sing them very small and clear, Very true to time and tune and pleasing to the ear.
Mark the note that rises, mark the notes that fall, Mark the time when broken, and the swing of it all. So when night is come, and you have gone to bed, All the songs you love to sing shall echo in your head.