Where is the sea?—I languish here—
Where is my own blue sea?
With all its barks in fleet career,
And flags, and breezes free?
I miss that voice of waves which first
Awoke my childhood’s glee;
The measured chime—the thundering burst—
Where is my own blue sea?
Oh! rich your myrtle’s breath may rise,
Soft, soft your winds may be;