Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/193

Wrecks passed me by. I floated still
    A cold and helpless form,
Impelled by Ocean's tyrant will,
    An atom 'mid the storm.
Strange visions racked my reeling brain,
    Unearthly forms did rise,
And upward through the glassy main
    I met my true-love's eyes.

Torn hair, methought, like rays of light,
    Fell round me on the flood,
I knew my father's locks so white—
    Who tinged those locks with blood?
A cottage with its peaceful thatch
    And tapered casement glowed,
My shuddering hand essayed the latch,
    But burning lava flowed.

Close to my ear a monster sung,
    Green from the creeping slime,
And with his red, protruded tongue
    Hissed at me for my crime.
"Is there no grave of rest," I cried,
    "Down in the dark, deep sea?"
His hideous jaws he opened wide—
    "Where is the rest for thee?"

But lo! there came a spectre-boat,
    I hailed not—made no sign,
Yet o'er the wave I ceased to float,
    Nor felt the whelming brine.
I waked—how long had been my sleep!
    How dreamless my repose!
Strange faces seemed the watch to keep,
    They were my country's foes.