XLVIII.
But thou, the clear, the glorious! thou wert pouring
Brilliance and joy upon the crystal wave,
While she that met thy ray with eyes adoring,
Stood in the lengthening shadow of the grave!
Alas! I watch’d her dark religious glance,
As it still sought thee through the heaven’s expanse,
Bright Cross! and knew not that I watch’d what gave
But passing lustre—shrouded soon to be—
A soft light found no more—no more on earth or sea!