THE SEA-IN CALM. From each cave and rocky fastness In its vastness, Floats some fragment of a song: From the far-off isles enchanted With the golden fruit of truth; From the flashing surf, whose vision Gleams elysian In the tropic clime of Youth; From the strong will, and the endeavor Wrestles with the tides of fate; Floating waste and desolate ; Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless heart; They, like hoarded HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. Hearts there are on the sounding shore, Something whispers soft to me, Restless and roaming for evermore, 87 Like this weary weed of the sea; Bear they yet on each beating breast The eternal type of the wondrous whole: Growth unfolding amidst unrest, Grace informing with silent soul. CORNELIUS GEORGE FENNER. THE SEA-IN CALM. Look what immortal floods the sunset pours Upon us-Mark! how still (as though in dreams Bound) the once wild and terrible ocean seems! How silent are the winds! no billow roars; No: he reposes! Now his toils are done; III. There, with its waving blade of green, Thou call'st along the sand, and haunt 'st the The sea-flag streams through the silent water, surge, Restless and sad; as if, in strange accord One spirit did ye urge― IV. Of thousands thou both sepulchre and pall, V. Then turn thee, little bird, and take thy flight Where the complaining sea shall sadness bring Thy spirit never more. Come, quit with me the shore And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen sea; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean And demons are waiting the wreck on shore; For gladness, and the light Where birds of summer sing. RICHARD HENRY DANA. THE CORAL GROVE., DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, That never are wet with falling dew, Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow; The water is calm and still below, For the winds and waves are absent there, And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air. HAMPTON BEACH. THE sunlight glitters keen and bright, Lies stretching to my dazzled sight Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wastes of sandy gray. The tremulous shadow of the sea! Of silvery light, rock, hill, and tree, On-on-we tread with loose-flung rein Our seaward way, Through dark-green fields and blossoming grain, Where the wild brier-rose skirts the lane, And bends above our heads the flowering locust spray. SENECA LAKE. Ha! like a kind hand on my brow Comes this fresh breeze, Cooling its dull and feverish glow, While through my being seems to flow The breath of a new life-the healing of the seas! Now rest we, where this grassy mound His feet hath set In the great waters, which have bound His granite ankles greenly round I sit alone; in foam and spray Wave after wave 89 Breaks on the rocks which, stern and gray, Beneath like fallen Titans lay, Or murmurs hoarse and strong through mossy cleft and cave. What heed I of the dusty land I see the mighty deep expand From its white line of glimmering sand With long and tangled moss, and weeds with To where the blue of heaven on bluer waves cool spray wet. Good-bye to pain and care! I take Mine ease to-day; Here, where these sunny waters break, And ripples this keen breeze, I shake All burdens from the heart, all weary thoughts away. I draw a freer breath; I seem Like all I see Waves in the sun-the white-winged gleam Of sea-birds in the slanting beamAnd far-off sails which flit before the south wind free. So when Time's veil shåll fall asunder, No fearful change, nor sudden wonder, ness grow. And all we shrink from now may seem No new revealing Familiar as our childhood's stream, Or pleasant memory of a dream, shuts down! In listless quietude of mind, I yield to all The change of cloud and wave and wind; And passive on the flood reclined, I wander with the waves, and with them rise and fall. But look, thou dreamer!-wave and shore In shadow lie; The night-wind warns me back once more To where my native hill-tops o'er Bends like an arch of fire the glowing sunset sky! So then, beach, bluff, and wave, farewell! I bear with me No token stone nor glittering shell, But long and oft shall Memory tell Of this brief, thoughtful, hour of musing by the sea. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO SENECA LAKE. The loved and cherished Past upon the new ON thy fair bosom, silver lake, life stealing. Serene and mild, the untried light May have its dawning; And, as in Summer's northern light The evening and the dawn unite, The wild swan spreads his snowy sail, And round his breast the ripples break, As down he bears before the gale. On thy fair bosom, waveless stream, The dipping paddle echoes far, The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's And flashes in the moonlight gleam, new morning. And bright reflects the polar star. |