Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/76



Now soft on thy bosom the orient is beaming, And tremulous breezes are waving thy breast; On thy mirror the clouds and the shadows are streaming, And morning and glory the picture have drest!

No gale but the balmy Favonian is blowing, In coral-caves resting, the winds are asleep; And, rich in the sun-beam, yon pendants are glowing, That tinge with their colors the silvery deep!

Yet smile or be dreadful, thou still-changing Ocean, Tremendous or lovely, resistless or still; I view thee adoring, with hallow'd emotion, The Pow'r that can hush or arouse thee at will!