Woke the starry hours to greet.
But a voice of mortal woe,
In its changes wild or low,
Through the midnight’s blue repose,
From the sea-beat rocks arose,
As Eudora’s mother stood
Gazing o’er th’ Ægean flood,
With a fix’d and straining eye—
Oh! was the spoilers’ vessel nigh?
Yes! there, becalm’d in silent sleep,