It is a fearful night; a feeble glare Streams from the sick moon in the o'erclouded sky; The ridgy billows, with a mighty cry,Rush on the foamy beaches wild and bare;No bark the madness of the waves will dare; The sailors sleep; the winds are loud and high; Ah, peerless Laura! for whose love I die,Who gazes on thy smiles while I despair? As thus, in bitterness of heart, I cried,I turned, and saw my Laura, kind and bright, A messenger of gladness, at my side:To my poor bark she sprang with footstep light, And as we furrowed Tago's heaving tide,I never saw so beautiful a night.
SONG.