The Island by Lord Byron

I The morning watch was come; the vessel lay Her course, and gently made her liquid way; The cloven billow flashed from off her prow In furrows formed by that majestic plough; The waters with their world were all before; Behind, the South Sea's many an islet shore.

The quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane, Dividing darkness from the dawning main; The dolphins, not unconscious of the day, Swam high, as eager of the coming ray; The stars from broader beams began to creep, And lift their shining eyelids from the deep; The sail resumed its lately shadowed white, And the wind fluttered with a freshening flight; The purpling Ocean owns the coming Sun, But ere he break - a deed is to be done.