And darkness swept over the gorgeous glare—
They lighted the mariners down to their home,
And left them all sleeping in stillness there!
VI.
The storm is hushed, and my vision is o'er,
The Surf Sprite changed to a foamy wreath,
The night is deepened along the shore,
And I thread my way o'er the dusky heath.
But often again I shall go to that cliff,
And seek for her form on the flashing tide,