SEA.
The Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods.
The sea is His, and He made it: and His hands formed the dry land.—Psalm xcv. 3, 5.
They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.—Psalm cvii. 23, 24.
And the sea gave up the dead which were in it.—Revelation, xx. 13.
And I saw a new heaven and new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.—Revelation, xxi. 1.
Sea!—of Almightiness itself the immense
And glorious mirror!—how thy azure face
Renews the heavens in their magnificence!
What awful grandeur rounds thy heavy space:
Thy surge two worlds eternal-warring sweeps,
And God’s throne rests on thy majestic deeps.
Chenedolle.
Mysterious deep, farewell!
I turn from thy companionship, but lo,
Thy voice doth follow me. ’Mid lonely bower,
Or twilight dream, or wakeful couch, I hear
That solemn and reverberated hymn
From thy deep organ, which doth speak God’s praise
In thunder, night and day. Still by my side,
Even as a dim-seen spirit, deign to walk,
Prompter of holy thought, and type of Him,
Sleepless, immutable, omnipotent.
Mrs. Sigourney.
To thee the love of woman hath gone down;
Dark flow thy tides o’er manhood’s noble head,
O’er youth’s bright looks, and beauty’s flowery crown!
Yet must thou hear a voice—Restore the dead!
Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee:—
Restore the dead, thou sea!
Mrs. Hemans.
How humbling to one, with a heart and a soul,
To look on thy greatness, and list to its roll;
To think how that heart in cold ashes shall be,
While the voice of Eternity rises from thee!
But when thy deep surges no longer shall roll,
And the firmament’s length is drawn back like a scroll,
Then—then shall the spirit that sighs by thee now,
Be more mighty, more lasting, more chainless than thou!
John A. Shea.
God of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
Till the fierce trumpet of the storm
Hath summoned up their slumbering bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hurry, trembling, o’er the seas,
Till, calmed by Thee, the sinking gale
Serenely breathes,—Depart in peace.
W. B. O. Peabody.
In every object here I see
Something, O Lord, that leads to Thee;
Firm as the rock Thy promise stands,
Thy mercies countless as the sands,
Thy love a sea immensely wide,
Thy grace an overflowing tide.
In every object here I see
Something, my heart, that points to thee;
Hard as the rocks that bound the strand,
Unfruitful as the barren sand,
Deep and deceitful as the Ocean,
And like the tides in constant motion.
B. Barton.
The prayer is said,
And the last rite man pays to man is paid;
The plashing water marks his resting-place,
And folds him round, in one long, cold embrace;
Bright bubbles for a moment sparkle o’er,
Then break, to be, like him, beheld no more;
Down, countless fathoms down, he sinks to sleep,
With all the nameless shapes that haunt the deep.
Charles Sprague.
Thou paragon of elemental powers,
Mystery of waters—never slumbering sea!
Impassioned orator with lips sublime,
Whose waves are arguments which prove a God!
R. Montgomery.