LXXXIII.
So still thy white robes fell!—no breath of air
Within their long and slumb’rous folds had sway.
So still the waves of parted, shadowy hair
From thy clear brow flow’d droopingly away!
Dark were the heavens above thee, Saviour!—dark
The gulfs, Deliverer! round the straining bark!
But Thou!—o’er all thine aspect and array
Was pour’d one stream of pale, broad, silvery light:
Thou wert the single star of that all-shrouding night!