"The night wind is moaning with mournful sigh,
"There gleameth no moon in the misty sky
"No star over Helle's sea;
"Yet, yet, there is shining one holy light,
"One love-kindled star thro' the deep of night,
"To lead me, sweet Hero, to thee!"
Thus saying, he plunged in the foamy stream,
Still fixing his gaze on that distant beam
No eye but a lover's could see;
And still, as the surge swept over his head,
"To night," he said tenderly, "living or dead,
"Sweet Hero, I'll rest with thee!"
But fiercer around him, the wild waves speed;
Oh, Love! in that hour of thy votary's need,
Where, where could thy Spirit be?
He struggles--he sinks--while the hurricane's breath
Bears rudely away his last farewell in death--
"Sweet Hero, I die for thee!"