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Be still, thou deep;—ye fav'ring gales Breathe lightly o'er the murm'ring wave;Fill with soft breath my lover's sails, And waft him far from Ellen's grave.
Ah! wherefore did ye waft him here, To rend a luckless maiden's heart?But I will wipe the gushing tear:— He cannot act so base a part!
Not many moons have lit the sky, Nor silver'd yonder peaceful sea,Since first I saw the vessel nigh, That bore such joy, such grief to me.
Long had th' Atlantic billows beat Their gallant bark on wintry seas;And long had been their cruise, and bleak, Till spring awoke the western breeze.
Then safely anchor'd in this bay, Too well their young commander stroveTo steal my simple heart away, And cloud my future days with love.
And will he spurn each plighted vow, And leave me broken-hearted here?But, hush, my doubts and terrors now— He comes my drooping soul to cheer!"
