"Hist! Hist!" They'd cry: and straight the plash of oar,
And creak cf sail were stilled;
And every ear
Was tent to catch the strains her sweet voice trilled.
Avast to gloomy thoughts and boding fear!
Alack the day when she should witch their hearts no more!
Rowena's Song.
Sea, sea,
Bounding and free,
O soothe me to sleep with thy sweet lullaby!
As when a child,
Sportive and wild,
Thy waves and I gamboll'd, thou gem-crested sea!
Sea, sea,
Laugh on in glee;
How dear to the sailor thy sweet monody!
Soul-soothing calm,
Soul-healing balm,
For hearts beating fondly for hearts on the sea!
Sea, sea,
Tempest-lashed sea!
O spare in thy fury, smite not angrily
Hearts true and brave,
Breasting thy wave,
Who love as they trust thee, thou beautiful sea!
Sea, sea,
Bring back to me
One that thou bearest to war's pageantry!
Bear him my love,
Life-lasting love,
For him and him only, then speed him to me!
Sir Harold at Acre.
So sang Rowena, from her turret bower,
Her plaintive notes each night,
In seamen's ears.
Their hearts sank deep. They long had watched her white
And care-worn cheeks; but now they knew her fears
And wept with her to see the darkling storm-clouds lower.