Aeolian Harp by William Allingham

O pale green sea, 

With long, pale, purple clouds above - 

What lies in me like weight of love ? 

What dies in me 

With utter grief, because there comes no sign 

Through the sun-raying West, or the dim sea-line ? 

O salted air, 

Blown round the rocky headland still, 

What calls me there from cove and hill? 

What calls me fair 

From thee, the first-born of the youthful night, 

Or in the waves is coming through the dusk twilight ? 

O yellow Star, 

Quivering upon the rippling tide - 

Sendest so far to one that sigh'd? 

Bendest thou, Star, 

Above, where the shadows of the dead have rest 

And constant silence, with a message from the blest?