The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe. [Illustration: Ballad of the Little Page] BY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN It was a little, little page, Was brought from far away, To bear the great queen's velvet train Upon her bridal day. His yellow curls were long and bright, His page's suit was blue, With golden clasps at neck and knee, And ruffles fair and new. And faith, he was the smallest page The court had ever known: His head scarce reached the topmost step That led up to the throne. And oh, 't was but a little lad Had never been before So many leagues from kin and friends, And from his father's door! And oh!--'t was but a little child Who never yet, I wis, Had stolen lonely to his bed Without his mother's kiss. He had not seen the noble queen, Of whom his heart had fear; He knew no friend at court to give A welcome and good cheer. It was the busy night before The great queen's wedding-day, And all was bustle, haste, and noise, And every one was gay; And each one had his task to do, And none had time to spare To tend a weeping little page Whose mother was not there. Far in a big and gloomy room Within the castle keep, The little page lay all alone, And wept, and could not sleep. The little page lay all alone, And hid his head and cried, Until it seemed his aching heart Would burst his little side. The chamber door was set ajar, And one was passing by Who heard the little page's sobs And then his piteous cry. Then some one lifted up the latch And pushed the heavy door, And then a lady entered in And crossed the chamber floor-- A lady tall and sweet and fair, In bridal white who stepped; She stood beside the page's bed, And asked him why he wept. [Illustration: "--AND NONE HAD TIME TO SPARE TO TEND A LITTLE WEEPING PAGE"] [Illustration: "HE TREMBLED AND LOOKED DOWN"] And then he sobbed about a "kiss," His "mother," and his "home," And wished the queen had called no page, And wished he had not come; For she was "such a proud, great queen" He was afraid, he said; And he was "lost and lonely" there In that huge, gloomy bed. And then the lady bent her down And kissed him on the lips, And smoothed his yellow, silken curls With tender finger-tips. The tears stood in her gentle eyes; "Poor little lad!" she said, And cuddled him up in her arms And knelt down by the bed.