Together we had lived, even not in death disjoined! So had my Ceyx still been living here, Or with my Ceyx I had perished there; Now I die absent, in the vast profound, And me without myself the seas have drowned: The storms were not so cruel; should I strive To lengthen life, and such a grief survive! But neither will I strive, nor wretched thee In death forsake, but keep thee company. If not one common sepulchre contains Our bodies, or one urn our last remains, Yet Ceyx and Alcyone shall join, Their names remembered in one common line.-- No farther voice her mighty grief affords, For sighs come rushing in betwixt her words, And stopt her tongue; but what her tongue denied, Soft tears, and groans, and dumb complaints supplied. 'Twas morning; to the port she takes her way, And stands upon the margin of the sea; That place, that very spot of ground she sought, Or thither by her destiny was brought, Where last he stood; and while she sadly said, } 'Twas here he left me, lingering here, delayed } His parting kiss, and there his anchors weighed. } Thus speaking, while her thoughts past actions trace, And call to mind, admonished by the place, Sharp at her utmost ken she cast her eyes, And somewhat floating from afar descries; It seemed a corpse adrift, to distant sight, But at a distance who could judge aright? It wafted nearer yet, and then she knew, That what before she but surmised was true; A corpse it was, but whose it was, unknown, Yet moved, howe'er, she made the case her own; Took the bad omen of a shipwrecked man, As for a stranger wept, and thus began: Poor wretch, on stormy seas to lose thy life, Unhappy thou, but more thy widowed wife!-- At this she paused; for now the flowing tide Had brought the body nearer to the side: The more she looks, the more her fears increase At nearer sight, and she's herself the less: Now driven ashore, and at her feet it lies; She knows too much, in knowing whom she sees,-- Her husband's corpse; at this she loudly shrieks, 'Tis he, 'tis he, she cries, and tears her cheeks, Her hair, her vest; and, stooping to the sands, About his neck she casts her trembling hands. And is it thus, O dearer than my life, Thus, thus return'st thou to thy longing wife!-- She said, and to the neighbouring mole she strode, Raised there to break the incursions of the flood; Headlong from hence to plunge herself she springs, But shoots along supported on her wings; A bird new-made about the banks she plies, Not far from shore, and short excursions tries; Nor seeks in air her humble flight to raise, Content to skim the surface of the seas; Her bill, though slender, sends a creaking noise, And imitates a lamentable voice;