From The Amaranth, A Literary and Religious Offering,
Designed as a Christmas and New Year's Present
Edited by J. H. Buckingham (Newburyport: Charles Whipple, 1831
A poem, by George Lunt
Again upon the sounding shore,
And oh, how blest,--again alone!
I could not bear to hear thy roar,
Thy deep, thy long majestic tone--
I could not bear to think that one
Could view with me thy swelling might,
And, like a very stock or stone,
Turn coldly from the glorious sight,
And seek the idle world to hate, and fear and fight.
Thou art the same, eternal sea!
The earth hath many shapes and forms,
Of hill and valley--flower and tree,--
Fields that the fervid noon-tide warms,
Or winter's rugged grasp deforms,
Or bright with autumn's golden store;
Thou coverest up thy face with storms,
Or smils't serene, but still thy roar
And dashing foam go up to vex the sea-beat shore.
I see thy swelling waters roll,
I hear thy stern uplifted voice;
And, trumpet-like, upon my soul
Falls the deep music of the noise,
Wherewith thou dost thyself rejoice:
The ships that on thy bosom play
Thou dashest them about like toys,
And stranded navies helpless lay
Upon thy rock-bound coast, torn by the howling spray.
As summer twilight soft and calm,--
Or when in stormy grandeur drest,
Peals up to Heaven the eternal psalm
That swells within thy boundless breast:
Thy curling waters have no rest,--
But day and night, the ceaseless throng
Of waves, that wait thy high behest,
Speak out in utterance deep and strong,
And loud the craggy beach howls to their awful song.
Terrible art thou in thy wrath,--
Terrible in thine hour of glee,--
When the strong winds upon their path
Bound o'er thy breast tumultuously,
And shout their chorus loud and free
To the sad sea-bird's mournful wail,--
While, heaving with the heaving sea,
The broken mast and shatter'd sail,
Tell of thy cruel strength the lamentable tale.
Ay, 'tis indeed a glorious sight
To gaze upon thine ample face,--
An awful joy--a deep delight!
I see thy laughing waves embrace
Each other in their frolic race;
I sit above the flashing spray
That foams around this rocky base,
And, as the bright blue waters play,
Feel that my thoughts, my life, perchance are vain as they!