The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 41, Page 429
V.
A Thought of the Sea.
My earliest memories to thy shores are bound—
Thy solemn shores—thou ever-chanting Main!
The first rich sunsets, kindling thought profound
In my lone being, made thy restless plain
As the vast shining floor of some dread fane,
All paved with glass and fire! Yet oh, blue Deep!
Thou that no trace of human hearts dost keep,
Never to thee did Love, with silvery chain,
Draw my soul's dream, which through all nature sought
What waves deny, some bower for steadfast bliss;
A home to twine with fancy, feeling, thought,
As with sweet flowers. But chasten'd Hope for this
Now turns from Earth's green vallies, as from thee,
To that sole, changeless World where "there is no more sea."
