Danaë, with her infant Son Perseus, was exposed in a Vessel to the fury of the waves, by order of her Father Acrisius.
As on the well-fram'd Vessel's side
Impetuous pours the stormy tide,
Aloud the furious whirlwinds sound,
And foaming surges break around,
Danaë, while tears her cheek bedew,
Her Arm around her Infant threw,
And, ah! she cried, what weight of woe
This wretched breast is doom'd to know,
Yet calm my helpless babe you lie,
And balmy slumber seals your eye,
Hush'd in this drear abode you sleep
Amid the horrors of the deep,
Now by the moon reveal'd to sight,
Now wrapp'd in shades of gloomy night,
Nor heed the howling waves that spread
Tremendous o'er your shelter'd head.
In your warm robe you lie reclin'd
Regardless of the raging wind.
If all these fears to you were fear
My words would pierce your infant ear;
But still may Sleep's oblivious hand
O'er you extend it's influence bland,
And O! may Slumber's placid reign
Lull the rude tempest of the main,
Bid the dread scene of terror cease,
And give my tortur'd bosom peace.
