Page:Over the river, and other poems.djvu/91

Rh Faintly the breath of the summer roses Comes on the dewy twilight air. Still she sits by the window lonely, Gazing out, though the night grows dark; While her thoughts—winged rovers—are following only The outward course of a gallant bark. One that she loves as she loves none other, One she has loved this many a day Better than father, better than brother, Sailed this morn in the ship away. So she heeds not the wind's caressing; She is standing again on the wave-washed shore;