SONG OF THE SEA-WEED.
I am born in crystal bower
Where the despot hath no power
To trail and turn the oozy fern,
Or trample down the fair sea-flower.
I am born where human skill
Cannot bend me to its will;
None can delve about my root,
And nurse me for my bloom and fruit;
I am left to spread and grow
In my rifted bed below,
Till I break my slender hold,
As the porpoise tumbleth o'er me;
And on I go now high—now low—
With the ocean world before me.
Where the despot hath no power
To trail and turn the oozy fern,
Or trample down the fair sea-flower.
I am born where human skill
Cannot bend me to its will;
None can delve about my root,
And nurse me for my bloom and fruit;
I am left to spread and grow
In my rifted bed below,
Till I break my slender hold,
As the porpoise tumbleth o'er me;
And on I go now high—now low—
With the ocean world before me.
I am nigh the stately ship
Where she loiters in the calm;
While the south, like Love's own lip,
Breathes a sweet and peaceful balm.
Plashing soft with gentle grace,
Round the hull I keep my place;
While the sailor, through the day,
Leaneth o'er her side,
And idly watches me at play
Upon the drowsy tide.
She is stanch and she is stout,
With chain and cable girt about;
But I'll match my tendrils fine
With her shrouds and halyard line.
Where she loiters in the calm;
While the south, like Love's own lip,
Breathes a sweet and peaceful balm.
Plashing soft with gentle grace,
Round the hull I keep my place;
While the sailor, through the day,
Leaneth o'er her side,
And idly watches me at play
Upon the drowsy tide.
She is stanch and she is stout,
With chain and cable girt about;
But I'll match my tendrils fine
With her shrouds and halyard line.
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