And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
read more

And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like shy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers.
. . . .
And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.

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.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man read more

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore.

He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a
pot of ointment.

He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a
pot of ointment.

Alone I walked on the ocean strand,
A pearly shell was in my hand;
I stooped, and read more

Alone I walked on the ocean strand,
A pearly shell was in my hand;
I stooped, and wrote upon the sand
My name, the year, the day.
As onward from the sport I passed,
One lingering look behind I cast,
A wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away.

Deep calleth upon deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy
waves and thy billows are gone over read more

Deep calleth upon deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy
waves and thy billows are gone over me.

If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea;
Even read more

If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea;
Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold
me.

The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south
pass through; so it cometh from read more

The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south
pass through; so it cometh from the desert, from a terrible land.

Behold the Sea,
The opaline, the plentiful and strong,
Yet beautiful as is the rose in June,
read more

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.