If, by his torturing, savage foes untraced, The breathless Captive gain some trackless glade, Yet hears the war-whoop howl along the waste, And dreads the reptile-monsters of the shade; The giant reeds that murmur round the flood, Seem to conceal some hideous form beneath; And every hollow blast that shakes the wood, Speaks to his trembling heart of woe and death. With horror fraught, and desolate dismay, On such a wanderer falls the starless night; But if, far streaming, a propitious ray Leads to some amicable fort his sight, He hails the beam benign that guides his way, As I, my Harriet, bless thy friendship's cheering light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: GOTTLIEB GERALD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE RHODORA: ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN |