Choriambic: 2

When the blue wave sinks on the sea, and the still night hushes the deep,
Ever my soul hastens to thee, ever thy smile blesses my sleep.
Then a few hours, blest, thou art nigh; then, too, as once, thou art my own:
But when the dawn kindles the sky, sadly I wake, — far thou hast flown.

Canst thou not take me in thy flight, when with the dawn thou art no more?
Fairer thou seemest, spirit of heaven, though thou didst seem fairest before.
Now thou art gone, earth all is dark; — O, wilt thou ne'er bear me away?
Here only night deadens my soul, — yonder alone, yonder is day!
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.