POEMS.
131
No! Though thy loss to thee may give
A moment's passing misery;
Thy shaft were better never found,
Than there should rise another sigh!
R. A.
A moment's passing misery;
Thy shaft were better never found,
Than there should rise another sigh!
R. A.
THE SONG OF THE SEA-BIRDS.
Over the stilly waters,
Over the changing sea,
Where mortal hath never sought us,
Our sunny path shall be.
Over the changing sea,
Where mortal hath never sought us,
Our sunny path shall be.
Long may the op'ning flowers,
That blossom o'er hill and plain,
Bloom on in their summer bowers
Ere we return again,
That blossom o'er hill and plain,
Bloom on in their summer bowers
Ere we return again,
We will glance o'er the sparkling billow,
We will ride on the storm-clouds dark;
Ere the mariner seeks his pillow,
We will look on his gallant bark.
We will ride on the storm-clouds dark;
Ere the mariner seeks his pillow,
We will look on his gallant bark.
