The Return Home, 10

On the clouds doth rest the moon,
Like a giant-orange gleaming;
Broad her streaks, with golden rays
O’er the dusky ocean beaming.

Lonely roam I by the strand
While the billows white are breaking;
Many sweet words hear I there,
From the water’s depths awaking.

Ah! the night is long, full long,
And my heart must break its slumbers;
Beauteous nymphs, come forth to light,
Dance! and sing your magic numbers!

To your bosom take my head,
Soul and body I surrender!
Sing me dead, caress me dead,
Drain my life with kisses tender.