Gives half its glowing beauty to the deep;
When the dusk swallow dips his drooping wing,
And the gay winds that o’er thy bosom sweep,
Tribute from dewy woods and violets bring,
Thy restless billows in their gifts to steep.
Thou’rt beautiful when evening moonbeams shine,
And the soft hour of night and stars is thine.
Thou hast thy tempests too—the lightning’s home
Is near thee though unseen; thy peaceful shore,
When storms have lashed these waters into foam,