POETRY. 535 



And oh ! that now some fairy pinnace light 

 Might Hit along the wave (by no seen pow'r. 

 Directed, save when Lotc* upon the prow 

 Gather'd or spread with tender hand the sail) 

 That now some fairy pinnace, o'er the surge 

 Silent, as in a summer's dream, might waft 

 The passengers upon the conscious flood 

 To regions of undisturbed joy. 



But hark ! 

 The wind is in the shrouds — ^the cordage sings 

 With fitful violence — the blast now swells, 

 Now siniis. Dread gloom invests the farther-wavcj 

 Whose foaming toss alone is seen, beneath 

 The Veering bowsprit. 



O retire to rest, 

 Maiden, whose tender heart would beat, whose cheek 

 Turn pale to see another thus expos'd : — 

 Ilark ! the deep thunder louder peals — O save — - 

 The high mast crashes ; but the faithful arm 

 Of love is o'er thee, and thy anxious eye, 

 Soon as the grey of morning peeps, shall view 

 Grc^n Erin's hills aspiring ! 



The sad morn 

 Comes forth ; but terror on the sunless wave 

 Still, like a sea-fiend, sits, and darkly smiles 

 Beneath the flash that through the struggling clouds 

 Bursts frequent, half revealing his scath'd front. 

 Above the rocking of the waste that rolls 

 Boundless around. 



No word through the long day 

 She spoke : another slowly came : — No word 

 The beauteous drooping mourner spoke. The sim 

 Twelve times had sunk beneath the sullen surge. 

 And cheerless rose again : — Ah were are now 

 Thy havens, France ? But yet — resign not yet 

 Ye lost sea-farers — oh, resign not yet 

 All hope — the storm is pass'd ; the drenched sail 

 Shines in the parsing beam ! look up, and say, 

 *' lleav'n, thou hast heard our prayers !" 



And 1o^ scarce seen, 

 A distant dusky spot appears, they reach 



• Image taken from Ovid'is Sappho to Phaonu 



