harold, the wanderer.
45
Their hearts within sunk, feeling nigh dead!
Engulphed in the billows, dashed a wreck on the shore,
Poor Harold lay senseless as if ne'er to rise more,
Engulphed in the billows, dashed a wreck on the shore,
Poor Harold lay senseless as if ne'er to rise more,
When Harold revived, the gale was o'er,
The winds were hushed, the waters raged no more;
The sea, now calm, broke gently on the beach;
He watched the gulls fly almost within his reach.
As he sat on a rock, that long unhappy day,
Upon his bare head the sun poured down its scorching ray;—
His brain on fire, hideous objects pass'd before his eyes,—
Horrid sounds too he fancied, mingling with fearful cries!
His mind now wand'ring, oft his mother's name would cry,
Then ask her hand.—"Your hand, dear mother! near you I would die."
The winds were hushed, the waters raged no more;
The sea, now calm, broke gently on the beach;
He watched the gulls fly almost within his reach.
As he sat on a rock, that long unhappy day,
Upon his bare head the sun poured down its scorching ray;—
His brain on fire, hideous objects pass'd before his eyes,—
Horrid sounds too he fancied, mingling with fearful cries!
His mind now wand'ring, oft his mother's name would cry,
Then ask her hand.—"Your hand, dear mother! near you I would die."
The day past by, night came and went,
And yet no earthly aid was sent;
For three long nights, and two long days,
Harold lingered in this fearful way,
Until he almost envied his comrades' graves
And yet no earthly aid was sent;
For three long nights, and two long days,
Harold lingered in this fearful way,
Until he almost envied his comrades' graves
