Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/36

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They stood on the deck, and the midnight gale Just waved the maiden’s silver veil— Just lifted a curl, as if to show The cheek of rose that was burning below: And never spread a sky of blue More clear for the stars to wander through! And never could their mirror be A calmer or a lovelier sea! For every wave was a diamond gleam: And that light vessel well might seem A fairy ship, and that graceful pair Young Genii, whose home was of light and air! Another evening came, but dark: The storm clouds hovered round the bark