To catch our farewell look and beck.

Two girlish figures, fair and frail,

Hovering against a great white sail

Like spirit shapes in dazzling air,—

I seem to see them standing there,

Always together, always so,—,

’Twas long ago, oh, long ago!

The east was bright with yellow noon,

The flying vessel vanished soon.

Flashes of jubilant white spray

Beckoned and pointed her the way.

A lessening speck she outward sped;

Sadly we turned, but still we said,,

“They will come back again, we know,”—

Those faces sweet, those happy eyes,

Looked nevermore on Western skies;

Where the hot sunbeams weave their net

O’er cedar-crowned, sad Olivet,

They who had shared their lives shared death,

Tasting at once the first strange breath

Of those quick airs for souls that flow

So long ago, so long ago!

In vain we picture to our eyes

The convent gray, the still, blue skies,

The mountain with its bordering wood;—

Still do they stand as then they stood,

Hovering like spirits fair and frail

Against the dazzle of the sail;

The red lips part, the faces glow,

As long ago, so long ago!