On the Cliffs, Newport
Tonight a shimmer of gold lies mantled o’erSmooth lovely Ocean. Through the lustrous gloomA savor steals from linden trees in bloomAnd gardens ranged at many a palace door.Proud walls rise here, and, where the moonbeams pourTheir pale enchantment down the dim coast-line,Terrace and lawn, trim hedge and flowering vine,Crown with fair culture all the sounding shore.How sweet, to such a place, on such a night,From halls with beauty and festival a-glare,To come distract and, stretched on the cool turf,Yield to some fond, improbable delight,While the moon, reddening, sinks, and all the airSighs with the muffled tumult of the surf!