The Tear

The latest light of evening

Upon the waters shone,

And still we sat in the lonely hut,

In silence and alone.

The sea-fog grew, the screaming mew

Rose on the water's swell,

And silently in her gentle eye

Gathered the tears and fell

.

I saw them stand on the lily hand,

Upon my knee I sank,

And, kneeling there, from her fingers fair

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.