Explore "The Drowned Lover" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary, / Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam; / Though the tempest is stern, and the mountain is dreary, / She must quit at deep midnight her pitiless home. / I see her swift foot dash the dew from the whortle, / As she rapidly hastes to the green grove of myrtle; / And I hear, as she wraps round her figure the kirtle, / ‘Stay thy boat on the lake,-dearest Henry, I come.'
High swelled in her bosom the throb of affection, / As lightly her form bounded over the lea, / And arose in her mind every dear recollection; / ‘I come, dearest Henry, and wait but for thee. ' / How sad, when dear hope every sorrow is soothing, / When sympathy's swell the soft bosom is moving, / And the mind the mild joys of affection is proving, / Is the stern voice of fate that bids happiness flee!