FROM a rived tree, that stands beside the grave Of the self-slaughtered, to the misty moon Calls the complaining owl in night's pale noon; And from a hut, far on the hill, to rave Is heard the ban-dog. With loud wave The roused and turbid river surges down, Swoll'n with the mountain-rains, and dimly shown Appals the sense. -- Yet see! from yonder cave, Her shelter in the recent stormy showers, With anxious brow, a fond-expecting maid Steals towards the flood! -- Alas! -- for now appears Her lover's vacant boat! -- the broken oars Roll down the tide! -- What images invade! Aghast she stands, the statue of her fears! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ABRAHAM LINCOLN WALKS AT MIDNIGHT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH AT PORT ROYAL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SAVONAROLA BROWN, SELECTION by HENRY MAXIMILIAN BEERBOHM A GLORY GONE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON HIS ENGAGEMENT TO BE MARRIED by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB DRAMATIC IDYLS: 2ND SERIES. PROLOGUE by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A DREAM by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: PROLOGUE. PART 3 by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |