She hushed her every tide that she might hear
Your whispered love, and while you bent so near
My bosom, laying down your weary head
To rest thereon—the corals in their bed
Stirred with emotion, shaken as with fear,
And foam grew paler, passionately drear
As some wan smile, upon a face that's dead.
I took your hand in mine, your living hand!
And pressed it closer, closer in mine own.
A nameless terror shocked me while I scanned