"Her heart sick with its terror, and her eye,
Roving in tearful, dim uncertainty.
Not long uncertain,—she marked something glide,
Shadowy and indistinct upon the tide;
On rushed she in that desperate energy,
Which only has to know, and knowing, die—
—It was Leander!"
L. E. L.
The melancholy tale is told; storm nor tempest had power to keep the husband from his wife, and in the wildness of his struggles for life, when hope was gone and despair succeeded, his last glance sought the watch light in Abydos, and his last sigh was given to the fond being who looked in vain from its rocky strand.