To win a Dis-stole maid.
'Twere sweet to cleave the snowy foam,
With ship and spirit free,
Where tropic spices ever roam,
The Caribbean sea.
'Twere sweet to sail by Yemen's shore,
And touch that golden strand,
Where Indus' river wanders o'er,
Its glittering, golden sand.
Oh! Nature! thou art far above,