As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green, br To the billows of foam-crested blue, br Yon bark, that afar in the distance is seen, br Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue: br Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray br As the chaff in the stroke of the flail; br Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way, br The sun gleaming bright on her sail. br br Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun,-- br Of breakers that whiten and roar; br How little he cares, if in shadow or sun br They see him who gaze from the shore! br He looks to the beacon that looms from the reef, br To the rock that is under his lee, br As he drifts on the blast, like a wind-wafted leaf, br O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea.