For marshalling thy waves—
Yet, potent sea!
How placidly thy moist lips speak e’en now
Along yon sparkling shingles. Who can be
So fanciless as to feel no gratitude
That power and grandeur can be so serene,
Soothing the home-bound navy’s peaceful way,
And rocking e’en the fisher’s little bark
As gently as a mother rocks her child?—
The inhabitants of other worlds behold