The Isle of the Dead
1 A land forlorn,
in dark enclosed.
Cold and silent it lies,
The land where no wind blows.
2 Red shines the moon
And gray is the grass.
Dark are the rocks
That like teeth ring the silent shore.
3 Silent creep the shades,
Who like the fog do go.
The ground gives back
No sound of their footfalls
For there is no sound---
No sound at all
In the Isle of the Dead.
4 Bloody is the moonlight
And cruel is the grass that strangles.
Terrible are the dark rocks
That like fangs line the dismal shore.
5 Here my love went astray from me,
Here in silence trapped, gone away.
In darkness I rove and cry;
But no answer returns to me.
6 Silent creep the shades,
No sound they make, all passing me
And among them my love I see,
And I cry to him to hear, to see
7 But silent he passes me
For in that land, they can neither hear nor see
There is no sound---
No sound at all
In the Isle of the Dead.
8 A land forlorn,
in dark enclosed.
Cold and silent it lies,
A land where no wind blows---
The Isle of the Dead.
Copyright © Gracie Woodsinger | Year Posted 2022
|