Night waneth fast, the morning star

  Saddens with light the glimmering sea,

Whose waves shall soon to realms afar

  Waft me from hope, from love, and thee.

Coldly the beam from yonder sky

  Looks o'er the waves that onward stray;

But colder still the stranger's eye

  To him whose home is far away

Oh, not at hour so chill and bleak,

  Let thoughts of me come o'er thy breast;

But of the lost one think and speak,

  When summer suns sink calm to rest.

So, as I wander, Fancy's dream

  Shall bring me o'er the sunset seas,

Thy look in every melting beam,

  Thy whisper in each dying breeze.