What unremorseful dark soliloquy
Moan’st thou and mutterest thus continually?
Listen! There is a secret register
Which in the hollow pause ’twixt wave and wave
Records thy doings for unnumbered years;
The treacherous tale of sudden summer gales;
Of furious autumn; of black winter nights;
Of man’s first advent, man’s harsh destiny,
Of boding calms, and madly lashing storms,
Of foundered ships, wild prayers, and drowning cries.