Where billows in their golden play
Dash on its sparkling sand.
No tempest’s wrath or stormy waters’ roar
Disturb the echoes of that peaceful shore.
II.
There the light breezes lie at rest,
Soft pillowed on the glassy deep;
Pale cliffs look on the waters’ breast,
And watch their silent deep.
There the wild swan with plumed and glossy wing,