70.
70.
’Twas at night, when the bell had tolled twelve,And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,In her ear whispered some fleeting elf—“Your love is now tossed on the billow”Far, far at sea.All was dark as she woke out of breath—Not an object her fears could discover;All was still as the portals of death,Save fancy, which painted her loverFar, far at sea.So she whispered a prayer, closed her eyes,But the phantom still haunted her pillow,While in terror she echoed his cries,As struggling he sunk on the billowFar, far at sea.
’Twas at night, when the bell had tolled twelve,And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,In her ear whispered some fleeting elf—“Your love is now tossed on the billow”Far, far at sea.All was dark as she woke out of breath—Not an object her fears could discover;All was still as the portals of death,Save fancy, which painted her loverFar, far at sea.So she whispered a prayer, closed her eyes,But the phantom still haunted her pillow,While in terror she echoed his cries,As struggling he sunk on the billowFar, far at sea.
’Twas at night, when the bell had tolled twelve,
And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear whispered some fleeting elf—
“Your love is now tossed on the billow”
Far, far at sea.
All was dark as she woke out of breath—
Not an object her fears could discover;
All was still as the portals of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover
Far, far at sea.
So she whispered a prayer, closed her eyes,
But the phantom still haunted her pillow,
While in terror she echoed his cries,
As struggling he sunk on the billow
Far, far at sea.