26
poems.
THE WAVE.
Oh, thou pure wave that murmurs on the shore,
Thy crystal waters smiling in the sun,
On thy far way didst thou in tempests roar,
And who pass'd o'er thee since thy course begun?
Thou hast shone at morn,
Thou hast slept at eve,
Where hearts were joyful
And where sad ones grieve!
Thy crystal waters smiling in the sun,
On thy far way didst thou in tempests roar,
And who pass'd o'er thee since thy course begun?
Thou hast shone at morn,
Thou hast slept at eve,
Where hearts were joyful
And where sad ones grieve!
Oh, thou pure wave that glitters on the strand,
What hast thou witness'd on thy vari'd way?
Bore ye a father from his native land,
Or a fond daughter from her home away?
Has th' wide snowy sail
Glided o'er thy light,—
Fair forms in thy coolness
Repos'd with delight?
What hast thou witness'd on thy vari'd way?
Bore ye a father from his native land,
Or a fond daughter from her home away?
Has th' wide snowy sail
Glided o'er thy light,—
Fair forms in thy coolness
Repos'd with delight?
Oh, thou proud wave that rests beneath this shade,
Hast dash'd the vessel on the rock-bound shore?
Were struggling forms beneath thy power laid?
Didst thou receive them to return no more?
Thou didst wildly rush,
Thou didst echo loud
The wind's stormy voice,
And ye prov'd their shroud!
Hast dash'd the vessel on the rock-bound shore?
Were struggling forms beneath thy power laid?
Didst thou receive them to return no more?
Thou didst wildly rush,
Thou didst echo loud
The wind's stormy voice,
And ye prov'd their shroud!
