 | The poetical works of Henry Alford |  |
126
VI.
It was the noon of night.
Upon the ocean's breast
The vast concave of heaven
Was downward imaged, bright
With throbbing stars: no rest
The roving eye might find;
Horizon there was none,
But vast infinitude
Spread over and below.
Upon the ocean's breast
The vast concave of heaven
Was downward imaged, bright
With throbbing stars: no rest
The roving eye might find;
Horizon there was none,
But vast infinitude
Spread over and below.
Down from the upper air
Self-poised a pillar glided,
Such as I saw erewhile,
But dark and mournful all:
Then first was manifest
The polished ocean-surface;
For into its calm breast
Passed this array of woe;
And I could see, as slow
It sunk, that same appearance,
But in a dismal garb
Of death-array. The sea
Closed over without noise.
Self-poised a pillar glided,
Such as I saw erewhile,
But dark and mournful all:
Then first was manifest
The polished ocean-surface;
For into its calm breast
Passed this array of woe;
And I could see, as slow
It sunk, that same appearance,
But in a dismal garb
Of death-array. The sea
Closed over without noise.
| The poetical works of Henry Alford | |