Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/96



sweet to mark the soften'd ray, O'er the ocean lightly play; Now no more the billows rave, Clear and tranquil is the wave; While I view the vessel glide, O'er the calm cerulean tide.

Now might fays, and fairy bands, Assemble on these "yellow sands;" For this the hour, as poets tell, That oft they leave the flowery cell, And lead the sportive dance along, While spirits pour the choral song.

The moonbeam sheds a lustre pale, And trembles on the distant sail; And now the silvery clouds arise, To veil the radiance of the skies; But soon I view the light serene, Gild again the lovely scene.