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In the dull and muffled tone Of the sea-wave's distant moan; In the deep tints of the sky, There are signs of tempest nigh. Ominous, with sullen sound, Falls the closing dusk around. Father! through the storm and shade O’er the wild, Oh! be Thou the lone one's aid— Save thy child!

Many a swift and sounding plume Homewards, through the boding gloom, O'er my way hath flitted fast, Since the farewell sunbeam pass'd From the chesnut's ruddy bark, And the pools, now lone and dark, Where the wakening night-winds sigh Through the long reeds mournfully.