O sailors, did sweet eyes look after you br The day you sailed away from sunny Spain? br Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew, br Melting in tender rain? br br Did no one dream of that drear night to be, br Wild with the wind, fierce with the stinging snow, br When on yon granite point that frets the sea, br The ship met her death-blow? br br Fifty long years ago these sailors died: br (None know how many sleep beneath the waves) br Fourteen gray headstones, rising side by side, br Point out their nameless graves,- br br Lonely, unknown, deserted, but for me, br And the wild birds that flit with mournful cry, br And sadder winds, and voices of the sea br That moans perpetually. br br Wives, mothers, maidens, wistfully, in vain br Questioned the distance for the yearning sail, br That leaning landward, should have stretched again br White arms wide on the gale, br br To bring back their beloved. Year by year, br Weary they watched, till youth and beauty passed, br And lustrous eyes grew dim and age drew near, br And hope was dead at last.