That waft a breath of hope around the tomb;
And kneel upon the dewy turf to pray!
But thou, what cave hath dimly chamber’d thee?
Vain dreams!—oh! art thou not where there is no more sea?[306]
LXII.
The wind rose free and singing: when for ever,
O’er that sole spot of all the watery plain,
I could have bent my sight with fond endeavour
Down, where its treasure was, its glance to strain
Then rose the reckless wind! Before our prow