Anniversary of the Loss of H.M.S. Tweed br br br br br Oh, what relief to gaze on yonder sky, br Where all is holy, calm, and purely bright! br Within, the sound of mirth and revelry br Startles the timid ear of sober night. br br br And eyes are bright and silver voices thrill, br As the harp echoes through the glittering hall; br The jest is there that wakes the laugh at will, br And mirth has cast her fairy spell o'er all. br br br I turn, fair spirit of light! where peaceful thou br Art shining in unatler'd majesty; br The thin clouds float across thy placid brow, br And catch its silver beam in passing by.