ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH. QUA CURSUM VENTUS. As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay Are scarce long leagues apart descried; When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, E'en so but why the tale reveal Of those, whom year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew to feel, Astounded, soul from soul estranged? At dead of night their sails were filled, Or wist, what first with dawn appeared! To veer, how vain! On, onward strain, Brave barks! In light, in darkness too, But O blithe breeze! and O great seas, 5 10 15 20 |