Rowena's Lonely Vigil.
Reading edition
She sought her chamber in yon spectral keep With ivy wreaths now crowned; Whose casket rent By Time's grim hand and strewn by fragments round, Once held a jewel whose rare beauty lent Its light to cheer the sailors toiling on the deep.
Her vestal lamp she nightly trimmed and fed, A beacon light more true Than stars above; For darkness only made the light it threw More bright—bless'd, too, as emblem of her love For those who else might make Hell's caves their last lone bed.
"Hist! Hist!" They'd cry: and straight the plash of oar, And creak cf sail were stilled; And every ear Was tent to catch the strains her sweet voice trilled. Avast to gloomy thoughts and boding fear! Alack the day when she should witch their hearts no more!