With ocean treasures, for the walls were bright
With crystal spar: In sooth, it seemed just formed
For some fair daughter of the main; at noon
Here she might bind her hair with shells, and wake
Her golden harp. But now a legend's told
Of human love and sorrow—it is called
The Cavern of the Pirate's Love:—her fate
Is soon and sadly told: she followed one,
A lawless wanderer of the deep, for whom
She left her father's halls. A little while
She might know happiness—it is the heart
That gives the colour to our destiny.
But lovely things are fleeting—blushes, sighs,
The hours of youth, smiles, hopes, and minstrel dreams,
Spring days and blossoms, music's tones, are all
Most fugitive; and swifter still than these
Will love dissolve into forgetfulness.
She was deserted. For awhile this cave
Was her sad refuge; for awhile the rocks
Echoed her wild complainings. I can deem
How she would gaze upon the sea, and think
Each passing cloud her lover's bark, 'till, hope
Sickened of its own vanity, and life
Sickened with hope, she passed and left a tale,
A melancholy tale, just fit to tell
On such an eve as this, when sky and sea
Are sleeping in the mute and mournful calm
Of passion sunk to rest. L. E. L.
