Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/38

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26
THE IMPROVISATRICE.


As there she could not dream of fear—
In her lover’s arms could danger be near?
He stood and watched her with the eye
Of fixed and silent agony.
The waves swept on: he felt her heart
    Beat closer and closer yet to his!
They burst upon the ship!—the sea
    Has closed upon their dream of bliss!
 
Surely theirs is a pleasant sleep,
    Beneath that ancient cedar tree,
Whose solitary stem has stood
    For years alone beside the sea!
The last of a most noble race,
That once had there their dwelling-place,