The Drowned Lover
Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary, Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam; Though the tempest is stern, and the mountain...
This is a poetry & verse.
Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary, Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam; Though the tempest is stern, and the mountain is dreary, She must quit at deep midnight her pitiless home. I see her swift foot dash the dew from the whortle, As she rapidly hastes to the green grove of myrtle; And I hear, as she wraps round her figure the kirtle, 'Stay thy boat on the lake,--dearest Henry, I come.'…
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