As it still sought thee through the heaven’s expanse,
Bright Cross! and knew not that I watch’d what gave
But passing lustre—shrouded soon to be—
A soft light found no more—no more on earth or sea!
XLIX.
I knew not all—yet something of unrest
Sat on my heart. Wake, ocean-wind! I said;
Waft us to land, in leafy freshness drest,
Where, through rich clouds of foliage o’er her head,
Sweet day may steal, and rills unseen go by,