XXVII
Where were ye all? and where wert thou?
I saw an eye that shone like thine,
But dark curls waved around his brow,
And his star-glance was strange to mine.
And yet a dreamlike comfort came
Into my heart and anxious eye,
And trembling yet to hear his name,
I bent to listen watchfully.
This voice, though never heard before,
Still spoke to me of years gone by;
It seemed a vision to restore,
That brought the hot tears to my eye.
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I paused on the threshold, I turned to the sky;
I looked to the heaven and the dark mountains round;
The full moon sailed bright through that ocean on high,
And the wind murmured past with a wild eerie sound.
And I entered the walls of my dark prison-house;
Mysterious it rose from the billowy moor.
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O come with me, thus ran the song,
The moon is bright in Autumn's sky,
And thou hast toiled and laboured long,
With aching head and weary eye.
October 1838.
