Page:Poems Cook.djvu/376

She may be seen at the lattice-pane
 When the climbing moon is bright;
With the gaze distraught of a dreaming brain
 Toward the beacon height.

There's not a cloud a star to shroud,
 The song-birds haunt the tree;
But she faintly sighs, as the dewdrops rise,
 —"'Tis a wild night at sea!"

Golden beams of a sunny June
 The work with light are filling;
Till the roses fall asleep at noon
 O'er the draught of their own distilling:

The maiden walks where aspen stalks
 Only move with the moth and the bee;
But she sigheth still, with shivering chill,
 —"'Tis a wild night at sea!"

Her beautiful Youth has wither'd away;
 Sorrow has eaten the core;
But, weak and wan, she lingereth on
 Till the thorn is white once more.

There are bridal robes at the old church porch,
 And orange-bloom so fair;
The merry bells say, 'tis a wedding-day,
 And the priest has bless'd the pair.

The maiden is under the churchyard yew,
 Watching with hollow eye;
Till the merry bells race with faster pace,
 And the bridal robes go by.

She dances out to the ding-dong tune,
 She laughs with raving glee:
And Death endeth the dream in her requiem scream,
 —"'Tis a wild night at sea!"

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