LXXXIII.

So still thy white robes fell!--no breath of air Within their long and slumb’rous folds had sway. So still the waves of parted, shadowy hair From thy clear brow flow’d droopingly away! Dark were the heavens above thee, Saviour!--dark The gulfs, Deliverer! round the straining bark! But Thou!--o’er all thine aspect and array Was pour’d one stream of pale, broad, silvery light: Thou wert the single star of that all-shrouding night!