There be none of Beauty's daughtersGeorge Gordon Byron (1788 - 1824)
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 charmèd 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.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Like music on the waters...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment