Save me and hide me with all thy waves,
Find me one grave of thy thousand graves,
Those pure cold populous graves of thine,—
Wrought without hand in a world without
stain.

I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships,
Change as the winds change, veer in the tide;
My lips will feast on the foam of thy lips,

I shall rise with thy rising, with thee subside; Sleep, and not know if she be, if she were,— Filled full with life to the eyes and hair,

As a rose is full filled to the rose-leaf tips

With splendid summer and perfume and pride.

This woven raiment of nights and days,

Were it once cast off and unwound from me, Naked and glad would I walk in thy ways, Alive and aware of thy waves and thee; Clear of the whole world, hidden at home, Clothed with the green, and crowned with the foam,

A pulse of the life of thy straits and bays,

A vein in the heart of the streams of the Sea.

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

66

OCEAN.

FROM THE COURSE OF TIME," BOOK I.

GREAT Ocean! strongest of creation's sons,
Unconquerable, unreposed, untired,

That rolled the wild, profound, eternal bass
In nature's anthem, and made music such

As pleased the ear of God! original,
Unmarred, unfaded work of Deity!
And unburlesqued by mortal's puny skill;
From age to age enduring, and unchanged,
Majestical, inimitable, vast,

Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each
Succeeding race, and little pompous work
Of man; unfallen, religious, holy sea!

Thou bowedest thy glorious head to none, fearedst none,

Heardst none, to none didst honor, but to God
Thy Maker, only worthy to receive

Thy great obeisance.

THE SEA.

ROBERT POLLOK.

THE Sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,

It runneth the earth's wide regions round;
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;
Or like a cradled creature lies.

I'm on the sea! I'm on the sea!

I am where I would ever be;

With the blue above, and the blue below,
And silence wheresoe'er I go;

If a storm should come and wake the deep,
What matter? I shall ride and sleep.

I love, O, how I love to ride

On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,

FISHING SMACK IN A SQUALL.

"I love, O, how I love to ride

On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide!"

-BARRY CORNWALL.

From a photograph by Braun, Clement & Co., after painting by J. S. Cotman.