There be none of Beauty`s daughters With a magic like Thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charméd ocean`s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull`d winds seem dreaming: And the midnight moon is weaving Her bright chain o`er the deep, Whose breast is gently heaving As an infant`s asleep: So the spirit bows before thee To listen and adore thee; With a full but soft emotion, Like the swell of Summer`s ocean.SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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