Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/36

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24
THE IMPROVISATRICE.


They stood on the deck, and the midnight gale
Just waved the maiden’s silver veil—
Just lifted a curl, as if to show
The cheek of rose that was burning below:
And never spread a sky of blue
More clear for the stars to wander through!
And never could their mirror be
A calmer or a lovelier sea!
For every wave was a diamond gleam:
And that light vessel well might seem
A fairy ship, and that graceful pair
Young Genii, whose home was of light and air!
 
    Another evening came, but dark:
The storm clouds hovered round the bark