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What are the wild waves saying,
Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
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What are the wild waves saying,
Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
I hear but their low, lone song?
The image of Eternity--the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the read more
The image of Eternity--the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Once more upon the waters! yet once more!
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
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Once more upon the waters! yet once more!
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider.
The sea appears all golden
Beneath the sun-lit sky.
The sea appears all golden
Beneath the sun-lit sky.
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but read more
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man.
The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, read more
The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide regions round;
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;
Or like a cradled creature lies.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Behold the Sea,
The opaline, the plentiful and strong,
Yet beautiful as is the rose in June,
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Behold the Sea,
The opaline, the plentiful and strong,
Yet beautiful as is the rose in June,
Fresh as the trickling rainbow of July;
Sea full of food, the nourisher of kinds,
Purger of earth, and medicine of men;
Creating a sweet climate by my breath,
Washing out harms and griefs from memory,
And, in my mathematic ebb and flow,
Giving a hint of that which changes not.