DIDST thou rejoice because the day was fair,—
Because, in Orient splendor newly dressed,
On flowering glebe and bloomless mountain-crest
The sun complacent smiled? Ah! didst thou dare
The careless rapture of that bird to share
Which, soaring toward the dawn from dewy nest,
Hailed it with song? From Ocean's treacherous breast
Didst borrow the repose mild-mirrored there?
Thou foolish heart! Behold! the light is spent;
Rude thunders shake the crags; songs timorous cease;
Lo! with what moan and mutinous lament
Ocean his pent-up passions doth release!
O thou who seekest sure and fixed content,
Search in thy soul: there find some source of peace.