The Legend of Genevieve with other tales and poems. By Delta [i.e. David Macbeth Moir] |
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| II. | No. II.
ADELINE. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | The Legend of Genevieve |  |
273
No. II. ADELINE.
The night was dark, the thunder roll'd,
In torrents the rain was pouring;
The lightning flash'd—'twas to unfold
The breast of the wild sea roaring:—
Then, from the tower, gazed Adeline
On the tempest's wild commotion,
And dim blue lights were seen to shine
Afar on the foaming ocean!
In torrents the rain was pouring;
The lightning flash'd—'twas to unfold
The breast of the wild sea roaring:—
Then, from the tower, gazed Adeline
On the tempest's wild commotion,
And dim blue lights were seen to shine
Afar on the foaming ocean!
Alas! she sigh'd, that one so dear,
Should toss on the faithless billow,
While thousands, void of doubt and fear,
Repose on the downy pillow;
Hark!—'tis the distant signal gun
And lo! as the lightning flashes,
The crowds on yonder deck that run,
As the sinking vessel crashes!
Should toss on the faithless billow,
While thousands, void of doubt and fear,
Repose on the downy pillow;
274
And lo! as the lightning flashes,
The crowds on yonder deck that run,
As the sinking vessel crashes!
No more she saw—no more she heard,
For darkness begirt the ocean,
Save the dismal wail of frighted bird,
Or the yeasty waves' commotion,
Till morning woke; and, on the beach,
Did Adeline's eyes discover,
Beneath her tower, within her reach,
The pale, pale face of her lover!
For darkness begirt the ocean,
Save the dismal wail of frighted bird,
Or the yeasty waves' commotion,
Till morning woke; and, on the beach,
Did Adeline's eyes discover,
Beneath her tower, within her reach,
The pale, pale face of her lover!
Hark! from her lattice to the breeze,
How mournfully sweet she is singing!
Now gazing wistful o'er the seas,
And ever her white hands wringing:
From festal bower, since that dread hour,
Hath Adeline's smile departed,
And oft she sings, when shadows lower,
The song of the broken-hearted!
How mournfully sweet she is singing!
Now gazing wistful o'er the seas,
And ever her white hands wringing:
From festal bower, since that dread hour,
Hath Adeline's smile departed,
And oft she sings, when shadows lower,
The song of the broken-hearted!
275
She was a star of beauty rare,
O'er the brow of a twilight mountain;
A flower that spreads its bosom fair,
By the side of a vernal fountain:
There came a cloud, and veil'd the star,
From earth its light is banish'd;
There rose a flood, and, in the jar
Of waters the young flower vanish'd!
O'er the brow of a twilight mountain;
A flower that spreads its bosom fair,
By the side of a vernal fountain:
There came a cloud, and veil'd the star,
From earth its light is banish'd;
There rose a flood, and, in the jar
Of waters the young flower vanish'd!
| The Legend of Genevieve | |