When every mad wave drowns the moon, I never was on the dull, tame shore, The waves were white, and red the morn, I've lived since then, in calm and strife, With wealth to spend and a power to range, BRYAN WALLER PROCTER (Barry Cornwall). ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN. O THOU vast Ocean! ever-sounding Sea! Thou thing that windest round the solid world From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone, Give answer to the tempest-wakened air; And fearful in thy spleeny humors bent, And lovely in repose! thy summer form Is beautiful, and when thy silver waves I love to wander on thy pebbled beach, And hearken to the thoughts thy waters teach,— BRYAN WALLER PROCTER (Barry Cornwall). |