And the nearest land was hundreds[434]—ay, thousands—of miles away.
She raved one night in a fever, and the next lay still as death,
So still I’d to bend and listen[435] for the faintest sign of breath.
She seemed in a sleep,[436] and sleeping, with a smile[437] on her thin, wan face;
She passed away[438] one morning, while I prayed[439] to the throne of grace.
I knelt in the little cabin, and prayer after prayer I said,
Till the surgeon came and told me it was useless—my wife was dead!
Dead! I wouldn’t believe it. They forced me away that night,
For I raved in my wild despairing, the shock sent me mad outright.
I was shut in the farthest cabin,[440] and I beat my head on the side,