Spurning the azure depths that lie below.
The poet and the spirit press’d the car,
Which soon the sportive dolphins whirl’d afar;
Those dolphins bred in the Ionian sea,
And thence were sent an offering to the maid,
Who the bright current of the Hudson sway’d.
The silvery rein obeying, on they flee—
They track the beauteous river’s winding course,
That not an eddy stirr’d, e’en from its source.
Still as a sheet of azure sheen it lay,