O night of agony! O awful morn,
That oped on such a scene thy sullen eyes!
The shattered ship,—those wrecked and broken hearts,
Who only prayed, "Together let us die."
Was this thy greeting longed for, Margaret,
In the high, noontide of thy lofty pride?
The welcome sighed for, in thine hours of grief,
When pride had fled and hope in thee had died?
Twelve hours' communion with the Terror-King!
No wandering hope to give the heart relief!