Despairing Cries

DESPAIRING CRIES.

1

DESPAIRING cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and
night, The sad voice of Death—the call of my nearest lover,
putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain, The Sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding—tell me my destina-
tion.

2

I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you, I approach, hear, behold—the sad mouth, the look
out of the eyes, your mute inquiry, Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me: Old age, alarm'd, uncertain—A young woman's voice,
appealing to me for comfort; A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?