STANZAS.
"Lightly o'er the moon-lit sea
Bounds my lover's bark to me;
The breeze hath woo'd the fluttering sail,
Fast flies the prow from the wanton gale."
The lady sung.—'Twas the lone sea-mew
O'er the waters wail'd, as he wistfully flew.
"Swiftly through the curling foam,
Waft, ye winds, my true love home:
I hear not yet the dripping oar,
The surge uncleft yet greets the shore."
The lady gazed.—'Twas the rushing blast,
Like some spirit of might, on the waters pass'd!
Darkly o'er the troubled deep,
Ruder winds the billows sweep;
The lady hath left her lattice bower,—
"Why tarries my love till the midnight hour?"
Swift answer came.—'Twas a shuddering moan,
As her lover's cold corse at her feet was thrown!
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.[J]
Forgotten so soon
Are thy vows when we parted,
Have other links bound thee,
Thou fickle false-hearted?
Go fling to the winds thy last tenderest vow,
They are not so changing, so reckless as thou.
Can the tear on thy cheek,
The warm gush from thy heart,
So soon dry their torrent?
So quickly depart?
Like dew on the flower, like the web when 'tis broken,—
Oh frailer than these, woman's vows when they're spoken.
And was it for this,
In my heart's holiest shrine,
No memory was hidden,
No image but thine?
And I deem'd thee some hallow'd, some heaven-given thing,
Entwined round my bosom for ever to cling.
I had perill'd my all
On that treacherous bark,
A woman's fond love;—
When the billows grew dark,
The bright sea was ruffled, the loud storm rush'd on,
My hopes are all wreck'd, and that light bark is gone.
Go, faithless, and weep!
For I scorn thy words now;
Yet no tears thou wilt shed
Can heal one broken vow;
No weeping can cleanse that one foul perjured stain,
Or quench the keen fire that now scorches my brain.
Yet stay, false one, stay;
There's a worm in thy breast,
A gloom on thy soul
Where no sunshine shall rest;
To which e'en the agony thou hast made mine
Is blessing and bliss when compared but with thine.