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There, void of care, our days shall roll In tranquil peace and love;Till death shall free th' immortal soul To brighter realms above!
MIDNIGHT SCENE.
Now midnight draws her murky veil,Now the sad Spirit of the galeWithin his humid rocky caveSits moaning to the dashing wave;The angry demons of the deepAre gone to rest—the storm's asleep;And ev'ry sound is hush'd to rest,Save zephyr rippling Ocean's breast,How full and round the moon appears!O'er the ward-hill her head she rears,While on the smooth and glassy streams,Lightly dance her silv'ry beams.The fairies, deck'd with daisies trim,Dance upon the clear loch's brim,On the grassy border play,And bask them in the lunar ray.Or where green ocean's billow laves,Some sea-nymph charms the list'ning waves,And seated on some rocky steepSings the dangers of the deep;She sings of many a gallant tar,That oft had brav'd the dubious war,
