Beside the Sea. They lingered ’near the spreading thorn ; The snow-white blooms fell on her hair ; Athwart his face the sunbeans lay ; And love was young, and life was fair. ‘ Only one little year,’ they said, Then parted at her cottage-door— He sailing westward with the tide, She, happy, waiting by the shore. Two long, long years ! Time slowly drags When Hope is gone for evermore ; The days seem weeks, the months seem years— And still she watches by the shore. The seaweeds cluster, red and gold, And shells amid their tangles gleam ; And bygone days are but to her As fading memories of a dream. ’Tis evening, and the glowing sun Stoops down to kiss the purple sea ; The foamy waves, like wind-blown clouds, Break on the rocks unceasingly. Slowly the gray mist creeps adown The darkening hillsides by the bay ; Song-birds are hushed, night-stars appear, And daylight dimly steals away. In bitterest agony she moans— For words will come though hearts may break : ‘ O dreamy wind, O sad, sad sea, Lull me to sleep, nor let me wake !’ Ah, was it Fate that brought the storm That night, and wrecked the ‘ homeward-bound ’ ? While in the gray dawn, met at last, The lovers side by side were found. Ay, met at last, but cold in death, The salt sea dripping from his hair ; And she—That upturned face can tell How heaven had heard her weary prayer. A. M. Maconachie.