Bellambis Maid

Amongst the thunder-splintered caves     On Oceans long and windy shore,     I catch the voice of dying waves     Below the ridges old and hoar;     The spray descends in silver showers,     And lovely whispers come and go,     Like echoes from the happy hours     I never more may hope to know!     The low mimosa droops with locks     Of yellow hair, in dewy glade,     While far above the caverned rocks     I hear the dark Bellambis Maid!     The moonlight dreams upon the sail     That drives the restless ship to sea;     The clouds troop past the mountain vale,     And sink like spirits down the lee;     The foggy peak of Corrimal,     Uplifted, bears the pallid glow     That streams from yonder airy hall     And robes the sleeping hills below;     The wandering meteors of the sky     Beneath the distant waters wade,     While mystic music hurries by     The songs of dark Bellambis Maid!     Why comes your voice, you lonely One,     Along the wild harps wailing strings?     Have not our hours of meeting gone,     Like fading dreams on phantom wings?     Are not the grasses round your grave     Yet springing green and fresh to view?     And does the gleam on Oceans wave     Tide gladness now to me and you?     Oh! cold and cheerless falls the night     On withered hearts and hopes decayed:     And I have seen but little light     Since died the dark Bellambis Maid!