Treasure Island

George Pope Morris

(1802-1864 / USA)

The Tyrant Sway.


The heart that owns thy tyrant sway,
Whate'er its hopes may be,
Is like a bark that drifts away
Upon a shoreless sea!
No compass left to guide her on,
Upon the surge she's tempest-torn--
And such is life to me!

And what is life when love is fled?
The world, unshared by thee?
I'd rather slumber with the dead,
Than such a waif to be!
The bark that by no compass steers
Is lost, which way soe'er she veers--
And such is life to me!

Submitted: Wednesday, October 06, 2010

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