Cheerily wakes along thy tremulous waves,
And blent with echoes of far distant caves,
Thine own wild voice a deep-toned matin sings.
Eastward, the line of jagged reefs is bright
With sunshine and white dashings of thy spray;
And laughing blithely in the golden light,
The fretted surf runs rippling up the bay;
Westward, from night—O bear it safe, fair sea!—
Slow sails the ship with freighted love to me.