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turned to the Earth, but she frowns on her child;
They turned to the ea, and he smiled as of old:
It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies,
In acclamation. I behold the ships
I love, O, how I love to ride
But who shall bide thy tempest, who shall On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,
face Where every mad wave drowns the moon,
The blast that wakes the fury of the sea ? And whistles aloft its tempest tune,
O God ! thy justice makes the world turn pale, And tells how goeth the world below,
When on the armed fleet, that royally And why the southwest wind doth blow ! Bears down the surges, carrying war, to smite I never was on the dull, tame shore
Some city or invade some thoughtless realm, But I loved the great sea more and more,
Descends the fierce tornado. The vast hulks And backward flew to her billowy breast,
Are whirled like chafl' upon the waves ; the Like a bird that seeketh her mother's nest,
sails And a mother she was and is to me,
Fly, rent like webs of gossamer ; the masts For I was born on the open sea.
Are snapped asunder ; downward from the decks
Downward are slung, into the fathomless gulf, The waves were white, and red the morn,
Their cruel engines ; and their hosts, arrayed In the noisy hour when I was born ;
In trappings of the battle-field, are whelmed The whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled,
By whirlpools or dashed dead upon the rocks.
Then stand the nations still with awe, and And the dolphins bared their backs of gold; And never was heard such an outcry wild,
pause As welcomed to life the ocean child.
A moment from the bloody work of war.
These restless surges eat away the shores
Of earth's old continents ; the fertile plain But never have sought or sighed for change : Welters in shallows, headlands crumble down, And death, whenever he comes to me,
And the tide drifts the sea-sand in the streets Shall come on the wide, unbounded sea ! Of the drowned city. Thou, meanwhile, afar
In the green chambers of the middle
Creator! thou dost teach the coral worm
To lay his mighty reefs. From age to age,
He builds beneath the waters, till, at last, The sea is mighty, but a mightier sways
His bulwarks overtop the brine, and check His restless billows. Thou, whose hands have The long wave rolling from the southern pole
scooped His boundless gulfs and built his shore, thy That smonlder under ocean, heave on high
To break upon Japan. Thou bid'st the fires, breath,
The new-made mountains, and uplift their peaks, That moved in the beginning o'er his face,
A place of refuge for the storm-driven bird. Moves o'er it evermore. The obedient waves
The birds and wafting billows plant the rists To its strong motion roll, and rise and fall.
With herb and tree; sweet fountains gush ; Still from that realm of rain thy cloud goes up,
sweet airs As at the first, to water the great earth,
Ripple the living lakes that, fringed with flowAnd keep her valleys green. A hundred realms
ers, Watch its broad shadow warping on the wind,
Are gathered in the hollows. Thou dost look And in the dropping shower with gladness hear
On thy creation and pronounce it good. Thy promise of the harvest. I look forth
Its valleys, glorious with their summer green, Over the boundless blue, where joyously
Praise thee in silent beauty; and its woods The bright crests of innumerable waves
Swept by the murmuring winds of ocean, join Glance to the sun at once, as when the hands
The murmuring shores in a perpetual hymn. Of a great multitude are upward flung
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.