150
poems.
SUNSET ON THE SEA-SHORE.
The sunshine breaks in gleams far o'er the sea;
The varying blast is rich in harmony;
The clouds of glowing hues give visions bright,
Like angels flitting round the hour of night.
The purple east, where the young day appears,
Like youthful widow, draws her veil in tears.
The bow of heaven, like memory, brightly gleams
Forth from the clouds; and the great ocean seems
Like a fond bosom touch'd by joy or grief,—
In sighs profound would seek the heart's relief.
Oh, faithful ocean! on thy heaving breast
Methinks this weary spirit would find rest;
The deep, the hushing music of thy tone
Is all I wish for as I stray alone.
The varying blast is rich in harmony;
The clouds of glowing hues give visions bright,
Like angels flitting round the hour of night.
The purple east, where the young day appears,
Like youthful widow, draws her veil in tears.
The bow of heaven, like memory, brightly gleams
Forth from the clouds; and the great ocean seems
Like a fond bosom touch'd by joy or grief,—
In sighs profound would seek the heart's relief.
Oh, faithful ocean! on thy heaving breast
Methinks this weary spirit would find rest;
The deep, the hushing music of thy tone
Is all I wish for as I stray alone.
A SKETCH.
Quickly ply the muffl'd oar,
Hasten, hasten to the shore;
Behold the lassie of my love
Waves her veil from the rock above.
Haste to the shadow of yon hill;
Now lovely is the night! how still!
But hark! I hear Sir William's horn
So clearly by the south-wind borne;
Then quickly ply the muffl'd oar,
Hasten, hasten to the shore!
Hasten, hasten to the shore;
Behold the lassie of my love
Waves her veil from the rock above.
Haste to the shadow of yon hill;
Now lovely is the night! how still!
But hark! I hear Sir William's horn
So clearly by the south-wind borne;
Then quickly ply the muffl'd oar,
Hasten, hasten to the shore!
