Then Beauty bade my bosom glow,
With mild and gentle fire!
Then Mirth, and Cheerfulness, and Love,
Around my soul were wont to move,
And thrill'd upon my lyre.
But when the Demon of the deep
Howl'd around thy rocky steep,
And bade the tempests rise,—
Bade the white foaming billows roar,
And murmuring dash the rocky shore,