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 | A thousand more verses |  |
The night is a vision of splendor; the stars hang in clusters on high;
The oft-troubled ocean is resting and smiles at her sister, the sky.
The storms that have fought through the winter from battle's confusion are free;
And only the children of zephyrs are playing about on the sea.
What more could wild wastes of the waters throw into a sweet silent song,
To welcome the pilgrims of pleasure that traverse their regions along?
What less could they do in that starlight so strangely unclouded and bright,
To guard 'gainst the traps that are waiting to plunge a whole world into night?
The oft-troubled ocean is resting and smiles at her sister, the sky.
The storms that have fought through the winter from battle's confusion are free;
And only the children of zephyrs are playing about on the sea.
What more could wild wastes of the waters throw into a sweet silent song,
To welcome the pilgrims of pleasure that traverse their regions along?
What less could they do in that starlight so strangely unclouded and bright,
To guard 'gainst the traps that are waiting to plunge a whole world into night?
| A thousand more verses | |