Broke the dim line 'twixt sea and sky,
Till slowly, slowly one came by,
Half ghostlike, gray and pale.

'It was a very little boat,
Had neither oars nor crew;
But as it shoreward bounded fast,
One form seemed leaning by the mast--
And Norman's face I knew!

'He never looked nor smiled at me,
Though I stood there alone;
His brow was very grave and high,
Lit with a glory from the sky--
The wild bark bounded on.

'I shrieked: "Oh, take me--take me, love!
The night is falling dread."--
"My boat may come no nearer shore;
And, hark! how mad the billows roar!
Art thou afraid?" he said.

'"Afraid! with thee?"--"The wind sweeps fierce
The foamy rocks among;
A perilous voyage waiteth me."--
"Then, then, indeed, I go with thee,"
I cried, and forward sprung.

'All drenched with brine, all pale with fear--
Ah no, not fear; 'twas bliss!--