See through yon cloud that rolls in wrath, One little star benignant peep, To light along their trackless path The wanderers of the stormy deep.
And thus, oh Hope! thy lovely form In sorrow's gloomy night shall be The sun that looks through cloud and storm Upon a dark and moonless sea.
When heaven is all serene and fair, Full many a brighter gem we meet; 'Tis when the tempest hovers there, Thy beam is most divinely sweet.
The rainbow, when the sun declines, Like faithless friend will disappear; Thy light, dear star! more brightly shines When all is wail and weeping here.
And though Aurora's stealing beam May wake a morning of delight, 'Tis only thy consoling gleam Will smile amid affliction's night.
THE LAKE OF CAYOSTÊA.
BY ROBERT BARKER.
Ob: 1831, æt. 27.
Thy wave has ne'er by gondolier Been dash'd aside with flashing oar, Nor festive train to music's strain Performed the dance upon thy shore. But there, at night, beneath the light Of silent moon and twinkling ray, The Indian's boat is seen to float, And track its lonely way.