Classic Poem

On a calm Morning which succeeded a Night-Storm at Sea.

That pow'r, whose voice from Chaos' vast inane
Call'd this fair orb, when sang the sister-stars,
Hath lull'd the tumult of the madden'd main,
And hush'd the rage of elemental wars.

Where rav'd the tempest — yields the blast of night
To matin gales that smooth the liquid way, —
And orient morn, in beams of beauty bright,
Awakes the rapture of the hymning lay,
Thy tribute due, eternal source of day!

Where night more dismal dwells, with gladd'ning light
So will a day-star spring; to cheer the gloom
Where chills of death the buds of being blight;
To wake the sleeping tenants of the tomb,
And make their faded forms in youth immortal bloom.