I see it as it looked one afternoon <br />In August,-by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown. <br />The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon, <br />A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon. <br />The shining waters with pale currents strewn, <br />The quiet fishing-smacks, the Eastern cove, <br />The semi-circle of its dark, green grove. <br />The luminous grasses, and the merry sun <br />In the grave sky; the sparkle far and wide, <br />Laughter of unseen children, cheerful chirp <br />Of crickets, and low lisp of rippling tide, <br />Light summer clouds fantastical as sleep <br />Changing unnoted while I gazed thereon. <br />All these fair sounds and sights I made my own.<br /><br />Emma Lazarus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/long-island-sound/
