Sitting, thinking, all alone,
Listening to the beetle’s drone,
And the night-hawk’s monotone;
Sitting, sighing, thus alone,
How my heart is longing!
Yet I could not tell you why
Tears will gather in my eye
When the night-winds tread the sky;
No, I could not answer why,
Or for what, I’m longing.
Solemn as the rapid’s roar,
Sounding on my native shore,
Is my heart’s dream evermore;
Oh! for some old wizard’s lore
To ease this weary longing.
Vague the cause that moves me so;—
Is it love? Ah no! no! no!!
It can’t be love that shakes me so,
When the stars in regal show
Around their Queen are thronging.