The diamond spray from his glittering wings.
Old ocean lieth in dreamless sleep,
As the slumber of childhood calmly deep,
Light falls the stroke of the fisher's oar,
As he leaves his cot by the shingly shore;
While the young wife's gaze, half sad, half bright,
Follows the frail bark's flashing flight.
Noon on the waters! O rustling breeze,
Sweet stealer 'mid old forest trees,
Wilt thou not thy sweet whisper keep