Page:The children of the night.djvu/25

 Through the mist of a drunken dream they brought her (This wild white bird) for the sea-fiend's prey: The pitiless reef in his hard clutch caught her, And hurled her down where the dead men stay. A torturing silence of wan dismay— Shrieks and curses of mad souls dying— Then down they sank to slumber and sway Where the bones of the brave in the wave are lying.

Prince, do you sleep to the sound alway Of the mournful surge and the sea-birds' crying?— Or does love still shudder and steel still slay, Where the bones of the brave in the wave are lying?