And grey flowed the shadows o'er sea-coloured bent,
And dark on the heathland, and dark on the wold:
But here on thy waters, where all things grow fair,
They shadow with purple thine emerald and gold.
My revel unbroken, my rapture unspent,
To thy far-shining wonder, O sea, I have come,
To sweep o'er thy splendour with turbulent flight;
To sway thee, and swing thee abroad in my might;
I lean to thy lips, to their white, curling foam,
With laughter and kisses, to smite it to spray;