 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
175
FLORENCE AND PAUL.
By ocean's rocky ledges
She clasped his wasted hand,
And the surf, with whitening edges,
Came booming to the land.
His sweet, pale face, wore ever—
By day and twilight lone—
The look of one who never
Had childish pastime known:
But love, unto each other,
Had closely knit the pair—
Why, with her little brother,
Came gentle Florence there?
PAUL.She clasped his wasted hand,
And the surf, with whitening edges,
Came booming to the land.
His sweet, pale face, wore ever—
By day and twilight lone—
The look of one who never
Had childish pastime known:
But love, unto each other,
Had closely knit the pair—
Why, with her little brother,
Came gentle Florence there?
Hark! dearest sister, hearken!
To that low, mournful strain,
While landward breezes darken
The mirror of the main.
Is it the snow-gull glancing,
A rover wild and free—
Far off the white-caps dancing,
Or phantoms that I see?
FLORENCE.
I hear no voice of sorrow
Of roaring ocean born,
And his azure garments borrow
Fresh lustre from the morn.
176
The waters far away,
And nothing ghostly hovers
Above the dashing spray.
PAUL.
A lady beckons, sister!
Who pale and shrouded seems,
Oh! I have often kissed her,
And talked to her in dreams.
Her presence wakes within me
Vague memories of the past;
Oh! would that she might win me
To her embrace at last.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |