Widow With Shawl (A Portrait) - Ashley Park

Dear wind that shakes the barley free

Blow home my true love’s ship to me, fill her sail

I, a-weary, wait upon the shore

Forsake her not in times of storm

Protect her oaken beams from harm, fill her sail

I, a-weary, wait upon the shore

Whether he be in Africa

Or deep asleep in India, fill his dreams

I, a-weary, wait upon the shore

Dear snow-white gulls upon the wave

I, like you, are lamenting for my love

I, a-weary, wait upon the shore

For seven years and seven days

No man has seen my woman ways, dear God

I, a-weary, cry upon the shore