Morn on the Summer Sea–the breaking light
Is trembling on the mountain’s misty height,
And upland lea–and on the distant glen–
And o’er the waters–far from haunts of men.
How faint and sweet from yonder secret dell,
Swells o’er the wave the early village bell,
Borne with the sounds of tinkling herds–and hark!
O’er the blue hills, the music of the lark
Rings clearly from the silver clouds that rest,
Like a bright Crown, above the mountain-crest.
O! green and happy land! whose headlands grey,
Are, in the distance, melting fast away;
Ye peaceful vales–the wanderer’s own sweet home,
And ye old woods!–farewell.–The curling foam–
The boundless sea, with all its host of waves,
May dash ere evening o’er our lonely graves.
Thou dark, unfathomed Ocean! in thy halls
No searching glance of kindly sunlight falls–
Far through thy azure depths the sea-snakes sweep,
And the huge Krakens haunt thee–stormy deep!
And from thy many-twinkling sands, bright gems
Shine like the pearls in kingly diadems.
The broad Sea-Fag lies there–and tufts of green,
Oft through thy glassy depths are dimly seen;
And the Sea-Grape and yellow Fan o’erspread
Thy pathless empire–and the Coral’s red
Glows mid thy snowy pebbles and rich sand,
And scarlet Shells that glisten o’er the strand.
–Sea! thou art full of life! things swift and strange
Through thy mysterious tides, half shapeless, range.
Noon on the flashing billows. All the day
We have gone lightly on our foaming way;
And the glad sun a tranquil smile hath sent
From his bright throne in yonder firmament.
The boisterous water from the sea’s full urn;
The storm-drenched Petrel curbs his tired wing,
To view awhile our rapid wandering–
O! boundless Sea! with thy upheaving surge,
Whitened with foam-wreaths to thy glorious verge;
With thy strong tides–thy multitude of waves–
And the wild voices of thy thousand caves–
And thy stern rage when tempests madden thee!
Fearful thou ever art, Eternal Sea!