The Tear

The latest light of

Upon the waters shone,

And still we sat in the lonely hut,

In silence and alone.

The sea-fog grew, the screaming

Rose on the water's swell,

And silently in her gentle

Gathered the tears and fell.

I saw them stand on the lily hand,

Upon my knee I sank,

And, kneeling there, from her fingers

The precious dew I drank.

And sense and power, since that sad hour,

In longing waste away ;

Ah me !

I fear, in each witching tear Some subtile poison lay.