ALL'S WELL.
What dost thou here, young wife, by the waterside,
Gathering crimson dulse?
Know'st thou not that the cloud in the west glooms wide,
And the wind has a hurrying pulse?
Gathering crimson dulse?
Know'st thou not that the cloud in the west glooms wide,
And the wind has a hurrying pulse?
Peaceful the eastern waters before thee spread,
And the cliffs rise high behind,
While thou gatherest sea-weeds, green and brown and red,
To the coming trouble blind.
And the cliffs rise high behind,
While thou gatherest sea-weeds, green and brown and red,
To the coming trouble blind.
She lifts her eyes to the top of the granite crags,
And the color ebbs from her cheek,
Swift vapors skurry, the black squall's tattered flags,
And she hears the gray gull shriek.
And the color ebbs from her cheek,
Swift vapors skurry, the black squall's tattered flags,
And she hears the gray gull shriek.
And like a blow is the thought of the little boat
By this on its homeward way,
By this on its homeward way,
