LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 209.
Springs desperate upon her poop; she shakes;
He strings a sudden arrow. Ocean sweeps
Over his curséd craft. The arrow takes
The straight swift road—Ah God !—to her who sleeps,
To her bright bosom as at peace she lies.
She is dead quickly, and the ocean keeps
The secret of my sorrow from her eyes.
I will not weep; I cannot weep; I turn
And watch the sail fill with the wind that sighs
A little for pure pity—I discern
The cowards shake with fear; the vessel springs
Light to the breezes, as the golden erne
That seeks a prey on its impetuous wings:
The reef is past ; I crash upon the foe,
And all the fury of my weapon rings
On armour temperless ; the waters flow
Through the dark rent within the side; I leap
Back to my dead love ; back, desiring so
That they had killed me, for I cannot weep.
They killed her, and a mist of blood consumes
My sight ; they killed my lover in her sleep.
The breeze has freshened, and the water fumes,
The vessel races on beneath the sky ;
Beneath her bows the eager billow spumes,
P