Claude.

I named him Claude, 'twas a strange conceit,     'Twas a name that no relatives ever bore;     Yet there lingered around it a mem'ry sweet,     Of a face and a voice I miss evermore.     I was pacing the deck of a captive ship,     That was straining its cables to get away,     From the parched up town, and its crowded slip,     To its home on the wave and its life in the spray.     When I saw the beautiful, sorrowful dame, -     And never, oh, never, shall I forget     The sweet chord struck as she spoke the name,     That thrilled through my being and lingers yet.     'Twas a winsome woman with raven hair,     And a lovely face, and a beaming eye,     With a smile that of joy and sorrow had share,     And her form had the charms for which sculptors vie.     I never had seen such a lovely hand,     As the one that she pressed to her snowy brow;     And her parted lips, showed a glistening band,     Of pearly teeth in an even row.     A fragrant scent like a rose's breath,     Hung round her and seemed of herself a part,     And a bouquet of lillies as pale as death,     Drooped sadly above her beating heart.     She only uttered the one word, "Claude,"     But oh! 'twas so touchingly, sweetly said; -     A volume of grief expressed in a word,     As she stedfastly gazed through the void overhead.     Then I noticed the sombre garments she wore,     And I knew the grim reaper had gathered her flower     'Twas the sense of the heart-crushing sorrow she bore,     Invested that name with such marvellous power.     She went ashore, and we sailed away,     'Twas the first and the only time ever we met,     But my memory limns her as lovely to-day,     As she was on that day I can never forget.     Months after, my baby boy came unto me,     And I gave him the name she had breathed in her sigh,     He was fair and sweet as the bloom on the tree,     Yet he never felt mine, though I could not tell why.     But that musical note floated round in the air, -     "Claude! - Claude!" sang the zephyrs that softly sped by,     And his eyes had a far-a way look, as if there,     Far beyond, he could see what I failed to descry.     One eve, in the gloaming, I hushed him to rest,     And the trees whispered "Claude" as they waved overhead,     He smiled as he nestled more close to my breast, -     And I wept, - for I knew that my darling was dead.