PALE, in the twilight, the crested waves are falling On a lone shore where never a sea-bird strays; Softly the twilight wind is calling, calling, Calling for Cleena of the olden days. Once a thousand lovers sang her praises, Wove her name in chant and storied rann; Cleena, for whose sake the sea-god raises, Wave on wave, his crested foam-white clan. Gods and heroes once the battle-gear uplifted All for Cleena of the curling, golden head; O'er her beauty now the dust has drifted, The songs are silent, and her lovers dead. Only where waves in shadowy foam are falling, Falling, falling ever, with a sound of tears, Earth and sea a vanished joy recalling, Mourn for Cleena and the long-forgotten years. Mournful wind, your grief cannot avail her. Sea-foam drifting, drifting through the night -- She has peace and silence, why bewail her? Cleena! Cleena! dead, forgotten quite! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN THE BLACK RUNNER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 8 by JAMES JOYCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MAGRADY GRAHAM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE DECISION (APRIL 14, 1861) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HORACE TO LEUCONOE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LINES ON LEAVING THE BEDFORD STR. SCHOOL HOUSE by GEORGE SANTAYANA |