SPEAK low! -- speak low -- the banshee is crying; Hark! hark to the echo! -- she's dying! 'she's dying!' What shadow flits dark'ning the face of the water? 'Tis the swan of the lake -- 'Tis the Geraldine's Daughter. Hush, hush! have you heard what the banshee said? Oh! list to the echo! she's dead! 'she's dead!' No shadow now dims the face of the water; Gone, gone is the wraith of the Geraldine's Daughter. The step of yon train is heavy and slow, There's wringing of hands, there's breathing of woe; What melody rolls over mountain and water? 'Tis the funeral chant for the Geraldine's Daughter. The requiem sounds like the plaintive moan Which the wind makes over the sepulchre's stone; 'Oh, why did she die? our heart's blood had bought her! Oh, why did she die, the Geraldine's Daughter?' The thistle-beard floats -- the wild roses wave With the blast that sweeps over the newly-made grave; The stars dimly twinkle, and hoarse falls the water, While night-birds are wailing the Geraldine's Daughter. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTOXICATION by EMILY DICKINSON THE MOCKING BIRD by SIDNEY LANIER THE SEARCH FOR LEAVEN by ALTER ABELSON REUNITED LOVE by RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE THE SPIRIT'S WARFARE by WILLIAM BLAKE |