A lonely pine is standing
On the crest of a northern height;
He sleeps, and a snow-wrought mantle
Enshrouds him through the night.
He's dreaming of a palm-tree
Afar in a tropic land,
That grieves alone in silence
'Mid quivering leagues of sand.
16[20]
My love, we were sitting together
In a skiff, thou and I alone;
'Twas night, very still was the weather,
Still the great sea we floated on.
Fair isles in the moonlight were lying,
Like spirits, asleep in a trance;
Their strains of sweet music were sighing,
And the mists heaved in an eery dance.
And ever, more sweet, the strains rose there,
The mists flitted lightly and free;
But we floated on with our woes there,
Forlorn on that wide, wide sea.
17[21]
I see thee nightly in dreams, my sweet,
Thine eyes the old welcome making,
And I fling me down at thy dear feet
With the cry of a heart that is breaking.
Thou lookest at me in woful wise
With a smile so sad and holy,
And pearly tear-drops from thine eyes
Steal silently and slowly.
Whispering a word, thou lay'st on my hair
A wreath with sad cypress shotten;
awake, the wreath is no longer there,
And the word I have forgotten.