On a broad bank, alone, he seem'd to stand,
Whose flowery limit closed a spacious land.
Around, the cultured plains appeared to glow
With various hues: a river roll'd below:
Unvex'd by storms, the tranquil waters ran:
On heaven's blue verge calm shines the mounting sun.
As waken'd from a dream of woe, amazed,
On woods, and skies, and murmuring streams, he gazed:
Calm, silent raptures flow'd thro' all his breast,
And seem'd the foretaste of eternal rest.

His eye, now settled, mark'd a little boat,
Which on the nearest waves appear'd to float:
Its airy sail with snow-white radiance blazed;
Its blue prow tinged the waters.--As he gazed,
Lo! the clouds 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 aërial 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;