Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/261

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He looked upon his native shore, His voyage, his perilous voyage is o'er. There stood a temple by the sea, Raised to its queen, : entered, and kneeling there He saw a girl, like spring-day fair, Feeding with incense the sacred flame, And he heard her hymn, and it breathed his name. Oh, Love! a whole life is not worth this bliss— has met her 's kiss!— They raised an altar upon the sea-shore, And every spring they covered it o'er With fruits of the wood and flowers of the field, And the richest perfumes that the East could yield; And as the waves rolled, they knelt by the side, And poured their hymn to the Queen of the Tide.