THE PRISONER'S LAMENT.
Close the dark portal! yet how may I flee
When dark around me flows this raging sea?
When dark around me flows this raging sea?
Yes, soft light shines beyond this stormy sea;
There springs young life, there many hearts beat free;
The waving woods bend to the gentle gale,
And 'neath their boughs is heard the low-ton'd tale.
Glad voices ring beside the sunlit stream,
It leaps in joy beneath the summer beam;
And homes encircled by the pine-tree's shade,
Are seen in rest within that happy glade.
There springs young life, there many hearts beat free;
The waving woods bend to the gentle gale,
And 'neath their boughs is heard the low-ton'd tale.
Glad voices ring beside the sunlit stream,
It leaps in joy beneath the summer beam;
And homes encircled by the pine-tree's shade,
Are seen in rest within that happy glade.
The twilight, dark and gloomy, comes to me,
And harsher sounds the deeply moaning sea.
And harsher sounds the deeply moaning sea.
There is my home where loving voices pray,
And breathe the name of one far, far away;
There burn the lamps within the silent hall;
There is the couch where waving curtains fall.
The gentle lute is not in Marie's hands;
Beside the casement, pale she waits, she stands,—
The rising moon beams brightly on her brow;
She weeps, "Oh! why not here, my lov'd one, now?"
And breathe the name of one far, far away;
There burn the lamps within the silent hall;
There is the couch where waving curtains fall.
The gentle lute is not in Marie's hands;
Beside the casement, pale she waits, she stands,—
The rising moon beams brightly on her brow;
She weeps, "Oh! why not here, my lov'd one, now?"
Far, far away beyond the roaring sea,
He may not hope to come again to thee!
He may not hope to come again to thee!