Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/193

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Wrecks passed me by. I floated still A cold and helpless form, Impelled by Ocean's tyrant will, An atom 'mid the storm. Strange visions racked my reeling brain, Unearthly forms did rise, And upward through the glassy main I met my true-love's eyes.

Torn hair, methought, like rays of light, Fell round me on the flood, I knew my father's locks so white— Who tinged those locks with blood? A cottage with its peaceful thatch And tapered casement glowed, My shuddering hand essayed the latch, But burning lava flowed.

Close to my ear a monster sung, Green from the creeping slime, And with his red, protruded tongue Hissed at me for my crime. "Is there no grave of rest," I cried, "Down in the dark, deep sea?" His hideous jaws he opened wide— "Where is the rest for thee?"

But lo! there came a spectre-boat, I hailed not—made no sign, Yet o'er the wave I ceased to float, Nor felt the whelming brine. I waked—how long had been my sleep! How dreamless my repose! Strange faces seemed the watch to keep, They were my country's foes.