Farewell to the Sea.
Farewell! bright ocean, to thy winding shore,
But not, my spirit trusts, for evermore;
Thy power is on me, and ’twould be deep pain,
Never to view thy glorious scenes again;
Yet till that hour in gladness comes to me
Full oft with pleasure shall I muse on thee,
And in clear vision see thy form displayed
In all its light and loveliness arrayed.
Oft will the music of thy choral waves
Upon the sand-beach, or in fretted caves,
Fall with its mighty harmonies full, clear,
Distinct and tuneful on the inward ear,
Recalling brightly to the mind’s rapt sight
Waves, cliffs, rocks, head-lands, all in beauty bright.—
I see the splendour of the morning’s ray
Illume the burnished mirror of the bay,
Whilst o’er its smooth and polished surface glide
Unnumbered sails in triumph and in pride,
Some dim in cloudy shade, some pure in light,
Whilst some, far distant, scarcely win the sight.
And now the glory of the noonday sun
Makes each wave silver that it shines upon;
Keen, vivid radiance pouring from the sky
Flashes around, too piercing for the eye!
But evening’s beams of ever-varied hue
Spread o’er the ocean and enhance its blue;
Soft, pearly tints, bright saffron, richest rose,
Their lovely rainbow radiance disclose,
Reflected on the deep so sweet, so fair,
That the charmed eye could gaze forever there.
Around soft stillness and mute calmness reign
Along the ocean’s clear and polished plain;
No vagrant zephyr’s gentle voice is heard,
No shout of sailor, and no wing of bird,
The gentle ripples chiming on the beach
The sole sweet music that the ear can reach!
Some image Peace amid the woodland grove,
Some in soft vales where simple rustics rove;
But to behold her calmest reign, give me
A gorgeous twilight by the waveless sea!
Rocks, reefs, bold head-lands on my memory gleam,
The sea-bird soaring in the sun’s bright beam,—
The dense clouds casting darker shades below,—
The waves beginning with white crests to flow,
Till lashed to fury in wild rage they roar,
And strew light foam along the sounding shore.
If thus, great ocean, memory can recall
Thy varied scenes, and gaze upon them all
As in thy presence, need there be regret
At parting from thee? Though it may be sweet
In fancy’s pictures to behold thee clear,
Yet the true lover would be ever near
The mistress of his choice;—and so would I
Full oft behold thee with delighted eye;
And in this farewell to thy much-prized shore
Hope would plead softly “not for evermore!”