Chapter VI

Row on, row on!--The First may light
My shallop o’er the wave to-night,
But she will hide in a little while
The lustre of her silent smile;
For fickle she is, and changeful still,
As a madman’s wish, or a woman’s will.

Row on, row on!--The Second is high
In my own bright lady’s balcony;
And she beside it, pale and mute,
Untold her beads, untouched her lute,
Is wondering why her lover’s skiff
So slowly glides to the lonely cliff.

Row on, row on!--When the Whole is fled,
The song will be hushed and the rapture dead,
And I must go in my grief again
To the toils of day and the haunts of men,--
To a future of fear and a present of care,
And Memory’s dream of the things that were.