OVER THE SEA.

I CANNOT hear thee, for the winds are moaning;

I cannot hear thee, for the waves are high;

I cannot hear thee, for the good ship, groaning,

Seaward doth fly.

And yet my fond heart listens to thy singing;

And yet methinks I clasp thee once again;

I hear thy voice, as if I were not winging

Across the main.

So be it ever! If the world torment me,

Happy in thee and in the past I 'II rest;

To sleep upon thy memory will content me

As 't were thy breast.

E. C. P.