Written at sea in the evening, near the Azores.

The tranquil Ocean scarce is seen to flow

The vessel rides serenely on her breast;

With richest crimson glows the peaceful west,

Wafted from fragrant shores the breezes blow,

And with delicious odour charm the sense ;

The Paphian star just peeps from yonder sky,

Seeming to whisper, “Love’s sweet hour drawn nigh,”

And tell the enamour’d pair to seek the grove,

Where no unhallow’d step shall speed them thence;

But all be ecstacy and silent love!

Yet, ah! in vain forme, these charms are spread,

For I have long been stranger to delight,

Long has life’s wintry storm beat o’er my head,

Nor can I hope repose, save in the realms of night.