How 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.