![]() | Ballads and metrical sketches | ![]() |
144
THE PHANTOM BARK.
Twin sails are in the distance,
Scarce heard a boatman sings:
His pinnace lightly skims the foam,
As borne on swallow's wings.
Scarce heard a boatman sings:
His pinnace lightly skims the foam,
As borne on swallow's wings.
There comes a whisper down the breeze,
A murmur faint and low:
That she is bound to a far-off land,
But where she scarce doth know.
A murmur faint and low:
That she is bound to a far-off land,
But where she scarce doth know.
Beyond the Straits of Hercules,
She maketh for the west,
Beyond the far Canaries,
To the islands of the blest.
She maketh for the west,
Beyond the far Canaries,
To the islands of the blest.
Those islands of the blest must mean
A grave in the Western sea;
No more, I ween, by mortals seen,
That frail, white, bark will be!
A grave in the Western sea;
No more, I ween, by mortals seen,
That frail, white, bark will be!
![]() | Ballads and metrical sketches | ![]() |