15
'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice. [errata 1]
The Sun’s rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o’er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.
We listen'd and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seem'd to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steerman's face by his lamp gleam'd white;
From the sails the dew did drip—
At the rising of the Moon.Till clombe above the eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.
Errata