Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/462

 Leaving no substance there ; and he may curse, With bitter malison, his too partial nurse, And charge her with his sufferings!’

So wept That maid, in seeming sorrow, till there fell From her lips Griefs volume-word—Farewell! And then, methought, she softly passed away, As a thin mist of glory on a ray Of purest moonshine ; or like starlet bright Sailed onward through the ocean of the night!

And then, meseems, I heard the wailing sound Of a wind-harp afar, and voice of one Who sung thereto a plaintive melody; And some words reached me, but the rest were drowned In dimest distance, and the hollow moan Of the night-breezes fitful sweeping by; Yet these stray words, ere while on earth they fell, Told Hope had pitying smiled before her last farewell.

Then all grew dark and loveless, and afar I saw the falling down of many a star, As the moon paled in sorrow—And the roar Of darkly tumbling floods I heard, that dashed