Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people.
I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.
'Tis very certain the desire of life prolongs it.
The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
Thy decay's still impregnate with divinity.
With thee all tales are sweet; each clime has charms; earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.