HYMN TO THE SEA.
Along yon soft tumultuousness, the Dawn
Reaches a glowing hand, and the mute world
Thrills back to life. This lustrous blossom, curled
In on its dreaming heart, feels the forlorn
Old Shadow lift, and guardedly discloses
Its wayside cheer; and endless waves away
Bide the slow triumph of the Light,
Rejoicing in the infinite
And quenchless possibility of Day;
Day,—that at least shall win far more than darkness loses.
Reaches a glowing hand, and the mute world
Thrills back to life. This lustrous blossom, curled
In on its dreaming heart, feels the forlorn
Old Shadow lift, and guardedly discloses
Its wayside cheer; and endless waves away
Bide the slow triumph of the Light,
Rejoicing in the infinite
And quenchless possibility of Day;
Day,—that at least shall win far more than darkness loses.
Over those morning waves, or when the bare
Stars glow, or Moon her tireless lover nears,
Stars glow, or Moon her tireless lover nears,
