Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/36

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Her lover's name!—through crowds she went,
 The crowds she heeded not,
His name with every air was blent,
 In every changing spot—
"Gilbert!" her sweet lips cried, and then
 Did thousands press around,
And wondering gazed, until again
 She uttered that loved sound.

And "Gilbert! Gilbert!" still the wind
 Bears on each varying gale,
Street after street she walks resigned,
 With stedfast cheek and pale.—
Her lovely hair streams on the breeze,
 Sore are her gentle feet,
And yet she stays not till she sees
 The face she dies to meet.

Is it a dream?—that manly brow,
 That mien of youthful pride,
Which flies from all that charms it now,
 And rushes to her side;
Which folds her to that noble breast,
 And gently dries her tears,
And takes her to a home of rest,
 And soothes away her fears;