A Sequel to Don Juan — page 188: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DON JUAN. 179 LX VIII. Now ocean murmurs gently on the shore, Atraid to harm the silence of the night ;— Now Cynthia plays upon the ripples hoar ; And now the stars, with penetrating light, Make heaven appear a curtain studded o’er Its velvet folds with myriad diamonds bright :— Worthy the region infinite they grace, Those worlds delight to show their radiant face ! LXIxX. The deep, the fathomless, th’ eternal sea Speaks with a thousand voices to the soul : it sweetly smiles in its tranquillity, And mocks when its infuriate billows roll. It tells of roving pleasures to the free, Hardships and toil to those beneath controul, And echoes, trumpet-tongued, the victor’s song When gallant navies move its breast along. LX X. The ocean, too, has morals of its own, Imaging with its hues life’s phases ever ; First when the golden flood of sun-light ’s thrown U pon its surface, or when moon-beams quiver : Again—when darkness on its breast comes down, Or when the lightning-shafts the dun clouds sever ; Or when, o’er sunken rocks, its hues are green— Or, in th’ horizon, azure and serene. COmiclboOoks.conn