  Along the edge the ship-shap'd moon Leadeth a star across the sea To the cloudy harbor under her lee. With her splendid lading of golden light She seems to dread the pirate Night; With puffing sails and fretful oars She steereth and speedeth for purple shores. She will anchor to-night beneath the fort Whose grim guns guard the cloudy port, Where sound and safe from picaroon |
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