The poetical works of Henry Alford Fifth edition, containing many pieces now first collected |
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 | The poetical works of Henry Alford |  |
V.
'Tis evening on the sea.
The fiery orb of heaven
Hath hid his last bright twinkle
Under yon western line;
And no star yet looks forth
From the blank unvaried sky.
Again 'tis breathless calm
Upon the ocean's face;
And the gray mournful light
Lies still upon the water,
Save where the cliff high-turreted
Is imaged deep beneath.
The fiery orb of heaven
Hath hid his last bright twinkle
Under yon western line;
And no star yet looks forth
From the blank unvaried sky.
125
Upon the ocean's face;
And the gray mournful light
Lies still upon the water,
Save where the cliff high-turreted
Is imaged deep beneath.
Among the rocks surf-whitened,
Sitting, or wandering slow,
Was that same form again,
Alone, and sorrow-marked;
His eye was lustreless,
And ever and anon
He raised his hands aloft,
And spoke to one above him;
But, as it seemed, none heard,
For still he wandered sad,
And I could see the tears
Spring from his brimming eyes,
And fall upon those rocks.
Sitting, or wandering slow,
Was that same form again,
Alone, and sorrow-marked;
His eye was lustreless,
And ever and anon
He raised his hands aloft,
And spoke to one above him;
But, as it seemed, none heard,
For still he wandered sad,
And I could see the tears
Spring from his brimming eyes,
And fall upon those rocks.
And once again he looked
Into the fading sky,
Where one scarce-visible star
Had lit its twinkling lamp;
Which when he saw, he smiled,
And a more copious flood
Of tears rained down his cheek;
Till on those barren stones,
For very weariness of grief,
He laid him down to die.
Into the fading sky,
Where one scarce-visible star
Had lit its twinkling lamp;
Which when he saw, he smiled,
And a more copious flood
Of tears rained down his cheek;
Till on those barren stones,
For very weariness of grief,
He laid him down to die.
| The poetical works of Henry Alford | |