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　　There be none of beauty"s daughters ,
       
　　With a magic like thee ;
       
　　And like music on the waters ,
       
　　Is thy sweet voice to me ;
       
　　When , as if its sound were causing .
       
　　The charmed oceans pausing ,
       
　　The waves lie still and gleaming,
       
　　And the lull"d winds seem dreaming.
       
　　And the midnight moon is weaving ,
       
　　Her bright chain o"er the deep .
       
　　Whose breast is gentle heaving ,
       
　　As an infant"s asleep.
       
　　So the spirit bows before thee,
       
　　To listen and adore thee.
       
　　With a full but soft emotion,
       
　　Like the swell of summer"s ocean.