uds opened, and with sudden glare
A dazzling form descended thro' the air.
Swift as a sea-bird darting o'er the deep,
Or meteor hovering with aerial sweep,
He flew, and lighting radiant on the helm,
Cast a bright shadow o'er the watery realm.
He waved his hand; the Exile took the sign,
Embark'd, and join'd the messenger divine.

Smooth o'er the liquid plain the vessel steers;
A faint-reflected sun on every wave appears.
Swift o'er the stream it steers: on either side,
In murmurs low th' advancing waves divide.
Thro' cloudless skies the radiant orb of day,
Enthroned in light, held on his heavenly way;
A line of light along the ocean streams,
The white sails glisten in the golden beams.
Still, as they roll, the river's waters lave
With ceaseless flow the lily of the wave:
The willow-forests on its verdant side
Bathe their green tresses in the crystal tide:
The bending alders paint the floods, and seem
A waving curtain o'er the glassy stream.
Thro' the wide clouds and thro' the watery way
Calm Light and Silence held their boundless sway.

Now vanish'd from their eyes the lessening shore,
And nearer grew the ocean's sullen roar:
And when the sun-heaven's topmost dome had scaled,
The green-tinged waters of the deep they sailed.
The orb of day, faint-glittering from afar,
Now veil'd in gradual gloom his beamy car:
A hollow murmur thro' the blackening skies,
Rolls dismal on, and loudens as it flies:
The watery birds fly screaming from the steep,
And darkness settles on the shivering deep.
The wondering Exile, from the deck, beheld
The tempest grow, and clouds on clouds impell'd:
Far to the south their dusky legions bend,
And thence o'er heaven a gloomy line extend.
He heard th' approaching tempest's hollow sigh,
And cold despondence trembled in his eye--
And lo, it bursts! the boundless whirlwinds sweep,
Toss the light clouds, and tear the staggering deep
Sheer from its lowest caves--the smoking rain
Bursts in white torrents o'er the echoing main:
The fiery bolts uninterrupted roll
From sky to sky, and shake the stedfast pole:
Red volleying o'er the heavens with curving beam
The fitful lightnings dart a quivering gleam,
And, glancing thro' the raven plumes of night,
Shed o'er the deep a pale sepulchral light.