Thy birthday opened with artillery;--
The flash and thunder of the breaking wave,
At early dawn, a greeting salvo gave,
While roared the outer crowded, jostling sea.
Glad heaven displayed its sunrise pageantry,
Each cloud the other trying to outbrave,
Till Phoebus through them drove his fiery nave,
In golden tnumph--all to honor thee!
O sea, we love thee! By thy moonlit side,
Mingling my halting whisper with thy tone,
I spoke the words that made her heart my own;
And ever since, the murmuring of thy tide,
Uplifting to the moon its silver zone,
Brings back the night whose memory is our pride.