Meditations of a Bereaved Lover
 on the Sea-Shore.
                           
                        
                     
                     
                     
                     
’Tis the sweet hour of Eve, when all1
                        
                        Is bright above, and calm below ;2
                        
                        When, save the wretched, none recall3
                        
                        That earth is but the home of wo.4
                        
                        Some look upon the waving grove,5
                        
                        Some gaze upon the dark blue sea,6
                        
                        Some on the glistening eye of love,—7
                        
                        I look for thee.8
                        
’Tis twilight, and the plaintive bird9
                        
                        Wild warbles through the darkening wood ;10
                        
                        And there her sweetest notes are heard11
                        
                        By those who love calm solitude :12
                        
                        While others list the jovial cry13
                        
                        That, echoing o’er the tranquil sea,14
                        
                        Bespeaks the home-bound vessel nigh,15
                        
                        I list for thee.16
                        Or if upon the passing crowd17
                        
                        I gaze, what bitter thoughts have birth !18
                        
                        Yet not from laughter long and loud—19
                        
                        I know the heartlessness of mirth ;20
                        
                        But there is one whose open brow21
                        
                        Reveals a spirit calm and free ;22
                        
                        Ah !  why should mine be troubled now ?23
                        
                        I think of thee.24
                        I too can gaze on earth and sea,25
                        
                        Hear the bird’s note, the maiden’s voice ;26
                        
                        But none can whisper peace to me,27
                        
                        None bid my wither’d heart rejoice.28
                        
                        O when shall calmer thoughts have birth
                               ?29
                        
                        It hath not been—it cannot be—30
                        
                        Till thou once more return to earth,31
                        
                        Or I to thee.32