Mare Placido

Across the tossing tumult of my seaThe peaceful current of your Spirit flows.The ships attain their harbours, enter freeBeyond the pale horizon's line of rose.Tempests are banished from these miles sereneHeld cloud-free, wind-free, by your love's control,My sea shall yield its deep-bed treasure soon!Mirror the evening star,—the cloud,—the moonTranquil, as tho' no storm had ever been—My sea shall be the mirror of your soul.