Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/164

viii.

For one fair Vision ever fled

⁠Down the waste waters day and night,
And still we follow'd where she led,
⁠In hope to gain upon her flight.
Her face was evermore unseen,
⁠And fixt upon the far sea-line;
But each man murmur'd, 'O my Queen,
⁠I follow till I make thee mine.'

ix.

And now we lost her, now she gleam'd

⁠Like Fancy made of golden air,
Now nearer to the prow she seem'd
⁠Like Virtue firm, like Knowledge fair,
Now high on waves that idly burst
⁠Like Heavenly Hope she crown'd the sea
And now, the bloodless point reversed,
⁠She bore the blade of Liberty.