Some mighty gulf of separation past, I seem'd transported to another world: A thought resign'd with pain, when from the mast And, whistling, call'd the wind that hardly curl'd For me farthest from earthly port to roam And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong). That I, at last, a resting-place had found; Roaming the illimitable waters round: And end my days upon the ocean flood." To break my dream the vessel reach'd its bound: By grief enfeebled, was I turn'd adrift, Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift, So pass'd another day, and so the third; – In deep despair, by frightful wishes stirr'd, Near the sea-side I reach'd a ruin'd Fort: There, pains which nature could no more support, And after many interruptions short Of hideous sense, I sank, nor step could crawl; Fretting the fever round the languid heart; And groans, which, as they said, might make a dead man s These things just served to stir the torpid sense, With strength did memory return; and, thence At houses, men, and common light, amazed. And gave me food, and rest, more welcome, more desir They with their pannier'd Asses semblance made The bag-pipe, dinning on the midnight moor, But ill they suited me those journeys dark The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match, What could I do, unaided and unblest? My Father! gone was every friend of thine : And kindred of dead husband are at best Ill was I then for toil or service fit: With tears whose course no effort could confine, Whole hours, my idle arms in moping' sorrow knit. I led a wandering life among the fields; Forgone the home delight of constant truth, Three years thus wandering, often have I view'd, Oh! tell me whither for no earthly friend Have I." She ceased, and weeping turn'd away;→ As if because her tale was at an end She wept ;-because she had no more to say Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay. |