Song Of Yoomy

by Herman Melville

　　

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Departed the pride, and the glory of Mardi:The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea, That rolls o'er his corse with a hush, His warriors bend over their spears, His sisters gaze upward and mourn. Weep, weep, for Adondo is dead! The sun has gone down in a shower; Buried in clouds the face of the moon;Tears stand in the eyes of the starry skies, And stand in the eyes of the flowers;And streams of tears are the trickling brooks, Coursing adown the mountains.— Departed the pride, and the glory of Mardi: The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea.Fast falls the small rain on its bosom that sobs,— Not showers of rain, but the tears of Oro.

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