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.

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.

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.

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.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.

When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a
swaddlingband for it,
And brake up read more

When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a
swaddlingband for it,
And brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors,
And said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here
shall thy proud waves be stayed?

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.

There is many a rich stone laid up in the bowells of the earth,
many a fair pearle in read more

There is many a rich stone laid up in the bowells of the earth,
many a fair pearle in the bosome of the sea, that never was seene
nor never shall bee.

Ye waves
That o'er th' interminable ocean wreathe
Your crisped smiles.

Ye waves
That o'er th' interminable ocean wreathe
Your crisped smiles.