This page needs to be proofread.
148
Like shooting stars, athwart the gloom The merchant-sails were sped ;
Yet oft, before ita midnight, doom, They mark'd the high mast head
Of that devoted vessel, tost
By winds and floods, now seen, now lost ; While every gun-fire spread
A dimmer flash, a fainter roar ;
— At length they saw, they heard no more.
There are to whom that ship was dear.
For love and kindred's sake ; When these the voice of Rumour hear»
Their inmost heart shall quake, Shall doubt, and fear, and wish, and grieve, Believe, and long to unbelievc.
But never cease to ache ; Still doom'd, in f-ad suspense, to bear The Hope that keeps alive Despair.
�� �
