ALL IN ALL.
Be calm, O Wind, and gently blow,
Nor rouse the waves’ commotion.
Ye Clouds, veil not the bay so low:
My love sails o’er the ocean.
Out, boatman, out! The wind will rise;
The yawl will find it stormy.
Ay, thrice thy fee.—Her signal flies.—
My love is waiting for me.
Blow on, ye Winds, your prey is flown,