 | Poems |  |
25
TO THE SAME.
I sailing on life's ocean lone,
Knew thee, Kathleen! while thou wast here,
A nature higher than my own,
And centred in a higher sphere!
Knew thee, Kathleen! while thou wast here,
A nature higher than my own,
And centred in a higher sphere!
And looking on thee from afar,
Fair beacon-light to my frail bark,
I saw thee lapse, a falling star,
And slide into eternal dark!
Fair beacon-light to my frail bark,
I saw thee lapse, a falling star,
And slide into eternal dark!
Ay me! what voice of piteous range,
What song of sorrow from my lips
Can paint the black, the bitter change
That marred my life at thy eclipse!
What song of sorrow from my lips
Can paint the black, the bitter change
That marred my life at thy eclipse!
A helmless bark, by tempest torn,
At random on the wild waves cast,
Whose tattered colours float forlorn,
In signal, from the broken mast!
At random on the wild waves cast,
Whose tattered colours float forlorn,
In signal, from the broken mast!
26
Which sail-less drives, with rigging bare,
Before the whirlwind's withering breath;
Blow on! bleak blast of keen despair,
And dash it on the rocks of Death!
Before the whirlwind's withering breath;
Blow on! bleak blast of keen despair,
And dash it on the rocks of Death!
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