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Poem by Christian Milne
See! Round yon rock the bellowing waves In quick succession spread! Their dashing spray the summit laves; While Anna , wretched maid! With mournful voice and streaming eyes- 'o god! Preserve my love'-now cries, 'from 'mid the shipwreck'd dead!' But William's bark, with furious bound, Is from her anchor torn! The shiv'red masts, with crashing sound, O'er her smooth sides are borne! The groaning hull, with bursting shock, See! Rudely dash'd against the rock Where stands the maid forlorn! Mark Anna's grief! 'Tis now despair! Her tears refuse to flow! Her eyes are fix'd, with frantic stare, Upon the wreck below! Behold! The parting surge displays Her dying lover to her gaze, In agonizing throe!! 'and is it thus , my William dear, that we are doom'd to meet!' Hear Anna say-'so very near our tranquil, lov'd retreat! you shall not long for Anna stay; you've been a tedious time away- 'twill make our meeting sweet!' This said-on William's wat'ry grave Hard gazing as before, His corpse, upon a coming wave, She sees approach the shore! The rock she leaps! And, in his arms, Quick yielding to grim death her charms, She sinks!-to rise no more!!
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