The sea was bright and the bark rode well, The breeze bore the tone of the vesper bell: 'Twas a gallant bark, with crew as brave, As ever launch'd on the heaving wave. She shone in the light of declining day, And each sail was set and each heart was gay.

They near'd the land where in beauty smiles The sunny shores of the Grecian isles: All thought of home, of that welcome dear, Which soon should greet each wand'rer's ear. And in fancy join'd the social throng, In the festive dance and the joyous song.

A white cloud glides thro' the azure sky, What means that wild despairing cry? Farewell, the vision'd scenes of home! That cry is Help! where no help can come. For the White Squall rides on the surging wave, And the bark is gulph'd in an ocean grave.