"And is he gone?"—on sudden solitude 480
How oft that fearful question will intrude?
"'Twas but an instant past—and here he stood!
"And now"—without the portal's porch she rush'd—
And then at length her tears in freedom gush'd,
Big—bright—and fast, unknown to her they fell;
But still her lips refus'd to send—"Farewell!"
For in that word—that fatal word—howe'er
We promise—hope—believe—there breathes despair.
O'er every feature of that still, pale face,
Had sorrow fix'd what time can ne'er erase: 490
The tender blue of that large loving eye
Grew frozen with its gaze on vacancy—
Till—Oh, how far! it caught a glimpse of him—
And then it flow'd—and phrenzied seem'd to swim
Through those long, dark, and glistening lashes dew'd
With drops of sadness oft to be renew'd.
"He's gone!"—against her heart that hand is driven,
Convuls'd and quick—then gently raised to heaven;
She look'd and saw the heaving of the main;
The white sail set—she dared not look again; 500