The billows, tipped with silver, kissed the sand,
As if they leaped rejoicing in the light
Whose mellowing radiance ushered in the night.
From cloudless skies the purple lustre fell
O’er palmy plain, and hill, and shaded dell;
While o’er the peopled city towering near,
The rays gleamed back from shield and burnished spear,
And the faint breezes many a banner stirred,
And many a waving plume. Yet was there heard
From those still streets no voice, nor martial clang