74
SELKIRK'S LIBERTY.
But not the enemies within his heart.
Shrinking from his own thoughts, he turns away,
And gazing dimly on the far-off sea
Of expectation, cheats himself with hope,
Like him, who stood upon that lonely shore,
And watched for her, who never would return.
Shrinking from his own thoughts, he turns away,
And gazing dimly on the far-off sea
Of expectation, cheats himself with hope,
Like him, who stood upon that lonely shore,
And watched for her, who never would return.
Lone dweller of the ocean! hope no more!
She whose white sails are spread before the wind,
Shall fold them gladly in the port of home,
And tell no tale of thee! The light sea-breeze,
That fans thy cheek with its reviving breath,
And plays among the clusters of thy hair,
Shall hear thy tale of muttered agony,
And mindless of the suffering it unfolds,
Will kiss the brows of those thou lovest well,
And breathe no word of thee! The wild, dark wave,
That sweeps around thy lonely island home,
Shall bear thy message of regret and love
To those who watch for thee upon the shore
Of far-off Scotland, and shall tell it not!
Standing upon thy rocky isle, like him,
The last lone being of humanity,
Who looks despairing, half in hope, around
For some remains of life—thou too dost look
For that thou canst not see!
Yes, she was gone
From that low shore forever! and from him.
Who, in his haste to catch the first, fond look
She whose white sails are spread before the wind,
Shall fold them gladly in the port of home,
And tell no tale of thee! The light sea-breeze,
That fans thy cheek with its reviving breath,
And plays among the clusters of thy hair,
Shall hear thy tale of muttered agony,
And mindless of the suffering it unfolds,
Will kiss the brows of those thou lovest well,
And breathe no word of thee! The wild, dark wave,
That sweeps around thy lonely island home,
Shall bear thy message of regret and love
To those who watch for thee upon the shore
Of far-off Scotland, and shall tell it not!
Standing upon thy rocky isle, like him,
The last lone being of humanity,
Who looks despairing, half in hope, around
For some remains of life—thou too dost look
For that thou canst not see!
Yes, she was gone
From that low shore forever! and from him.
Who, in his haste to catch the first, fond look
