Pale in that silent grief he stood,
Till the cold moon was waning fast,
And many a lovely star had died,
And the gray heavens deep shadows cast
Far o’er the slumbering tide;
And, robed in one dark solemn hue,
Arose the distant shore to view.
Then, starting from his trance of woe,
Tears, long suppress’d, in freedom flow,
While thus his wild and plaintive strain