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The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
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?
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.
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.
What are the wild waves saying,
Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
read more
What are the wild waves saying,
Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
I hear but their low, lone song?
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.
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.
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.