OLD DOMINION.
Turn you to the East, my friend;
Can you see no rosy streak?
Will the long night never end?
Day—oh will it never break?
WATCHMAN.
I have looked; no ray of light
Streaks the black horizon there:
But the angry face of night
Doth its fiercest aspect wear.
OLD DOMINION.
Raven, cease your dismal croak,
Cease to tear my bleeding breast;
Turn you where the clouds are broke;
Watchman, tell us of the West.
WATCHMAN.
Black and full of evils dire,
Stands the cloud which hides the West;
Storm-lights tinge its base with fire,
Lightnings play upon its crest.
OLD DOMINION.