midnight
Mysterious pow ' rs ! I hear ye murmur low , Till swells your loud gust on my startled ear , And , awful ! seems to say -- some God is near ! I love to list your midnight voices float In the dread storm , that o'er the ocean rolls , And , while their charm the angry wave controls , Mix with its sullen roar , and sink remote . Then , rising in the pause , a sweeter note , The dirge of spirits , who your deeds bewail , A sweeter note oft swells while sleeps the gale ! But soon , ye sightless pow ' rs ! your rest is o'er , Solemn and slow , ye rise upon the air , Speak in the shrouds , and bid the sea-boy fear , And the faint-warbled dirge -- is heard no more !