We render too that self-forgetting love;
That patient, true devotion we received.
To what can I compare thy glad, young life
Emerging just on manhood's sober years?
'Tis like a tree that's now attained fair growth
And covered o'er with scented blossoms sweet
Gives promise sure of richest freight of fruit.
And yet one other simile is here;
As year by year the tree doth form around
Itself a circle, showing the vital force
Within is ever working out with strong,
Unceasing energy, that first great law
Of Nature that power inherent, to build-
Construct, and give unto itself such grand
Proportions-such wealth of noble beauty,
So let thine energies be put to high
Pursuits, to elevating deeds: to that
Which cannot fail to give the toiler true
A glad and sweet content.
And may each sep'rate phase of thy career
Bear honourable marks of thy life's work
Which seeing, all can say 'THIS MAN HATH
OH, surging ocean, wide, and wild, and grand!
An angry despot thou, and harboureth deep
Strong enmity to Earth.
Her every treasure. Now, wouldst thou engulf
The glistening beach, anon, the smiling fields:
How many forest wilds hast thou entombed
Since first thou wert begotten?
In far-off age, while yet the Earth was young,
Thou mad'st a bed for thy tumultuous head,
'Midst spongy reeds as great as forest trees,
And tangled brakes which drew their breath
From rank and humid atmosphere.
Now white with foaming rage in furious storm Thou fill'st man's heart with apprehension deep; Awe-struck, with fascinated gaze he sees
White-crested waves, like thousand monsters huge,
Rush on in quick succession; gaping wide
With cavernous mouth, to swallow up their prey.
Then terror-struck the white-sailed ship doth flee,
As if she were some closely-hunted hind,
That running blindly on, doth trembling seek
The quiet shelter of some friendly cave.
But long before 'tis reached her eye-balls strained
With longing gaze, are glazed in grim, cold death.
The quiv'ring limbs her great embarrassment
No longer testifies. The fearful strife
Of death-agony is past; she breathes no more.
Even so the laden ship so fair, and strong
Erstwhile, is now resistless torn by grasp
Of Ocean's arms; she gasping sinks therein.
No more will gentle zephyrs play within
Her fair white wings.
No more to shores whose odorous breath
Delicious scents the balmy breeze, she'll sail
With graceful mien. The Sea, with envious eye
Hath cruelly despoiled her. Down she sinks
With all her living, breathing treasure closed
Within her.
And thou, oh, Sea, assumeth placid calm,
As if no crime were thine; like innocence
Thou weareth smooth and happy brow, and trust Again is given to thy deceitful face.
Now slowly comes the rolling mist all dark
And moist. It is thy heavy breath which fills
The broad expanse. In volumes huge and dank
It spreads itself, o'er earth, through air, and like
A dark unsightly veil it hideth all
Things fair.
The numerous suns who myriad miles above
The sky, desire to send their far-off light
To earth, are now shut out.
Is hid by black and murky mask.
And Cynthia herself can show no more
Her beaming, placid face, and her strong spouse Through atmosphere has ceased to dart his rays; For all is steamy, cold, and vaporous.
The Heavens unhappy at such fate weep tears
Of sadness. Winds moan and sigh, and all
Without is misery. Birds hide their heads;
Their song is hushed; their pleasant warblings
For in this darksome time all Nature mourns.
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