| |
| IN Huron’s wave a lovely isle | |
| Gems the blue water’s vast expanse. | |
| There nature wears her sweetest smile, | |
| And sunbeams o’er her beauties dance. | |
| |
| In vain the angry billows beat | 5 |
| Against its rock-encircled shore; | |
| The spray but makes its blossoms sweet, | |
| Expanding ’mid the tempest’s roar. | |
| |
| But when the winds and waves are hush’d, | |
| And evening’s shade is stealing on, | 10 |
| When the last beams of day have blush’d, | |
| And Hesper mounts his cloudless throne | |
| |
| How gently weep the dews of night, | |
| Which bow the tender harebell’s head | |
| And, falling noiseless, sweetly light | 15 |
| Upon the spotless lily’s bed. | |
| |
| Oh! were but man like that fair isle, | |
| In vain should trouble’s tempests gloom; | |
| Hope’s fairest flowers around should smile, | |
| And faith and resignation bloom. | 20 |
| |
| When life’s last lingering beam should fade, | |
| The radiant star of peace would rise, | |
| And dews of grace, at evening’s shade, | |
| His spirit nurture for the skies. | |
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