And lo! a radiant stream of light
Descending, gilds the murky cloud,
Where Desolation's gloomy night
Retiring, folds her sable shroud; —
It flashes o'er the bright'ning deep,
It softens Britain's frowning steep —
'Tis mild benignant Peace, enchanting form!
That gilds the black abyss, that lulls the storm.