 | The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics |  |
94
THE RIPPLE ON THE WATER.
There was a ripple on the water's face,
A ripple on the water of Loch Fyne;
Bright fell the sunshine, with a sportive grace;
Sweet sung the throstle from her island shrine.
A ripple on the water of Loch Fyne;
Bright fell the sunshine, with a sportive grace;
Sweet sung the throstle from her island shrine.
“Save me, God—save me!” but a moment past,
Uprose the shriek of frenzied agony;
From the clear wave, a dying youth aghast
Glared round, and upward, as he breath'd that cry,
Then sunk, slow-drifting through the unfathom'd space,
Down to dark burial, 'mid the wild weed's twine.
Uprose the shriek of frenzied agony;
From the clear wave, a dying youth aghast
Glared round, and upward, as he breath'd that cry,
Then sunk, slow-drifting through the unfathom'd space,
Down to dark burial, 'mid the wild weed's twine.
So came that ripple on the water's face,
That ripple on the water of Loch Fyne.
That ripple on the water of Loch Fyne.
| The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics | |