Wet with the white-caps splashing round,
And in her frolicsome advance,
Moved like a maiden in the dance.
Careening low upon her side,
No bird that cuts the air could glide
More deftly than she gaily flew,
Light-hearted, o’er the waters blue.
And just as gay were those on board,
Their youthful spirits in accord.
As well-tuned strings wake with a thrill,