Variation 4
O transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a p r i s o n e r lies?
Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this morning's brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing so frail as thou.
They would have done it had they known
The talisman that dwelt in thee,
For all the suns that ever shone
Have n e v e r been so kind to me!
For many a week and many a day
My heart was weighed with s i n k i n g gloom
When morning rose in mourning grey
And faintly lit my p r i s o n room.
But angel like, when I awoke,
Thy silvery form, so soft and fair,
Shining through d a r k n e s s, sweetly spoke
Of cloudy skies and mountains bare;