Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/53

—But thou liest far away!—No funeral chant,
Save the wild moaning of the wave, is thine;—
No pyre—save, haply, some long-buried wreck;—
Thou that wert fairest—thou that wert most loved!—

By the blue waters—the restless ocean waters,
Restless as they with their many-flashing surges,
Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!—

Come, in the dreamy shadow of the night,
And speak to me!—E'en though thy voice be changed,
My heart would know it still.—O! speak to me,
And say if yet, in some dim, far-off world,
Which knows not how the festal sunshine burns—
If yet, in some pale mead of Asphodel,
We two shall meet again!—O! I would quit
The day, rejoicingly,—the rosy light,—
All the rich flowers and fountains musical,
And sweet familiar melodies of earth,
To dwell with thee below—Thou answerest not!