Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
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 | Ellen Gray |  |
But what of Hubert? “Hide me in the mine!”
He cried, “the beams of day insulting shine!
“Earth's very shadows are too gay, too bright,—
“Hide me, for ever, in forgetful night!”
In vain;—that shade, the cause of all his woes,
More sternly terrible in darkness rose!
Nearer he saw, with its white waving hand,
That phantom in appalling stillness stand;
The letters in the book shone through the night,
More blasting! “Hide, oh hide me from the sight!
“Vast ocean, to thy solitudes I bring
“A heart, that not the fragrance of the spring,—
“The green-leaves' music,—or the wood-lark's strain,—
“Shall ever wake to hope or joy again!
“Ocean, be mine,—wild as thy wastes, to roam
“From clime to clime!—Ocean, be thou my home!”
He cried, “the beams of day insulting shine!
“Earth's very shadows are too gay, too bright,—
“Hide me, for ever, in forgetful night!”
In vain;—that shade, the cause of all his woes,
More sternly terrible in darkness rose!
Nearer he saw, with its white waving hand,
That phantom in appalling stillness stand;
The letters in the book shone through the night,
More blasting! “Hide, oh hide me from the sight!
“Vast ocean, to thy solitudes I bring
“A heart, that not the fragrance of the spring,—
“The green-leaves' music,—or the wood-lark's strain,—
“Shall ever wake to hope or joy again!
“Ocean, be mine,—wild as thy wastes, to roam
“From clime to clime!—Ocean, be thou my home!”
| Ellen Gray | |