Poems (Whitney)/Hymn to the sea
HYMN TO THE SEA.
Along yon soft tumultuousness, the Dawn
Reaches a glowing hand, and the mute world
Thrills back to life. This lustrous blossom, curled
In on its dreaming heart, feels the forlorn
Old Shadow lift, and guardedly discloses
Its wayside cheer; and endless waves away
Bide the slow triumph of the Light,
Rejoicing in the infinite
And quenchless possibility of Day;
Day,—that at least shall win far more than darkness loses.
Reaches a glowing hand, and the mute world
Thrills back to life. This lustrous blossom, curled
In on its dreaming heart, feels the forlorn
Old Shadow lift, and guardedly discloses
Its wayside cheer; and endless waves away
Bide the slow triumph of the Light,
Rejoicing in the infinite
And quenchless possibility of Day;
Day,—that at least shall win far more than darkness loses.
Over those morning waves, or when the bare
Stars glow, or Moon her tireless lover nears,
The eternal Beauty that these countless years
Makes earthly musings so divinely fair,
Broods listening to the prophecy thou chantest—
The subtle breath of mortal sympathies
Is she, wooing us unto right
In unsuspected ways; a light
From inmost heaven tempered to dreaming eyes,
A sweet foreshadow of the joy for which thou pantest.
Stars glow, or Moon her tireless lover nears,
The eternal Beauty that these countless years
Makes earthly musings so divinely fair,
Broods listening to the prophecy thou chantest—
The subtle breath of mortal sympathies
Is she, wooing us unto right
In unsuspected ways; a light
From inmost heaven tempered to dreaming eyes,
A sweet foreshadow of the joy for which thou pantest.
Roll in from far thy deep broad-skirted thunder,
Whereon the wild winds fawn! Thy voice by day—
But Night adopts and trances it away
Info its clear, sad universe of wonder.
O weary of life's lavish, shallow sound,
Enrich me beyond hunger with that tone!
Tell in what deep, gray solitude,
It may be born, what caverns rude;
Still haunt it; and if the infinite Alone
Touch it himself with calm and utterance so profound.
Whereon the wild winds fawn! Thy voice by day—
But Night adopts and trances it away
Info its clear, sad universe of wonder.
O weary of life's lavish, shallow sound,
Enrich me beyond hunger with that tone!
Tell in what deep, gray solitude,
It may be born, what caverns rude;
Still haunt it; and if the infinite Alone
Touch it himself with calm and utterance so profound.
Hark'ning through all the music of her leaves
And inland murmurs, o'er the seaward steep,
The stately Summer leans, while dim winds sweep
Her shining tresses back—and half she grieves
That thou disdain'st with thy hoar wreaths, to twine
Her fleeting gifts.—Yet hast thou tender fancies;
Broodings of love when young winds cease,
And silence deepens into peace;
And leadest with Day and Night immortal dances,
Crowned with fresh marriage-blooms and lotus-cups divine.
And inland murmurs, o'er the seaward steep,
The stately Summer leans, while dim winds sweep
Her shining tresses back—and half she grieves
That thou disdain'st with thy hoar wreaths, to twine
Her fleeting gifts.—Yet hast thou tender fancies;
Broodings of love when young winds cease,
And silence deepens into peace;
And leadest with Day and Night immortal dances,
Crowned with fresh marriage-blooms and lotus-cups divine.
Upon the broad, gray, gleaming beach I saw,
Last night, that phantom-light of thy desire,
Orb large and slow in the East, dropping pale fire
Along thy deep'ning tumult, so to draw
Old love-dreams out:—for countless leagues she had come
O'er kindred foam; her footfalls echoing yet
In the deep breast of Aral—through
Caspian and Euxine, and the blue
Of that famed gulf in earth's broad girdle set,
With endless voice of waves calling to shores long dumb.
Last night, that phantom-light of thy desire,
Orb large and slow in the East, dropping pale fire
Along thy deep'ning tumult, so to draw
Old love-dreams out:—for countless leagues she had come
O'er kindred foam; her footfalls echoing yet
In the deep breast of Aral—through
Caspian and Euxine, and the blue
Of that famed gulf in earth's broad girdle set,
With endless voice of waves calling to shores long dumb.
With all her loveliness earth leaves me sad,
And sadder for her loveliness. My hills
Are sacred chalices which eve o'erfills
With vintage for young gods; and deeply glad
In the sweet clasp of vernal boughs, the air
At night-fall swoons;—but hauntings unexplained
Steal in; earth looks half wild and lone,
And from her eyes I veil my own,
And lay my heart to hers—the unattained,
Youth's aching world of incompleteness throbbing there,
And sadder for her loveliness. My hills
Are sacred chalices which eve o'erfills
With vintage for young gods; and deeply glad
In the sweet clasp of vernal boughs, the air
At night-fall swoons;—but hauntings unexplained
Steal in; earth looks half wild and lone,
And from her eyes I veil my own,
And lay my heart to hers—the unattained,
Youth's aching world of incompleteness throbbing there,
But thou, shout on through heaven's soft, circling spheres,
Still promising with that great voice of power
A joy to every heart, a day, an hour
To come, outweighing all these silent years!
Afar thou veil'st thy kingliness in mist,
And stretchest in the heaven's most deep embrace,
Like the great Future, waste and gray,
Dissolving day to yesterday—
But what fair shores thou lapp'st in azure peace!—
What isles of joyous palms with tropic starlight kissed!
Still promising with that great voice of power
A joy to every heart, a day, an hour
To come, outweighing all these silent years!
Afar thou veil'st thy kingliness in mist,
And stretchest in the heaven's most deep embrace,
Like the great Future, waste and gray,
Dissolving day to yesterday—
But what fair shores thou lapp'st in azure peace!—
What isles of joyous palms with tropic starlight kissed!
I am borne outward by this fragrant breeze,
That seems to press its warm lips to the sand,
And then away, beyond the singing land,
To that hoar silence of the lone mid seas,
Where thou, in unrelated strength, a bare
Vast heart, throbbest beneath the eternal eye:—
Life soars like an enfranchised flame;
The needy doubt, the hope, that came
Before the laggard dawn to wake me, fly,
And dim Eternity flows in like silent air.
That seems to press its warm lips to the sand,
And then away, beyond the singing land,
To that hoar silence of the lone mid seas,
Where thou, in unrelated strength, a bare
Vast heart, throbbest beneath the eternal eye:—
Life soars like an enfranchised flame;
The needy doubt, the hope, that came
Before the laggard dawn to wake me, fly,
And dim Eternity flows in like silent air.
Do tempests swing thee, or deep, choral nights
Chant unto murmurous slumber, yield me still
The calm of hushed abysses!—human ill
Patience transfigures on her visioned heights.
Thou dost not rive the blood-drenched deck apart,
Nor whelm the slaver's freight of woes, but soft
On patient, swelling breast upborne,
Waftest the dismal burthen on,
As trusting in the love that waits aloft,
And the slow germ of good in man's unquiet heart.
Chant unto murmurous slumber, yield me still
The calm of hushed abysses!—human ill
Patience transfigures on her visioned heights.
Thou dost not rive the blood-drenched deck apart,
Nor whelm the slaver's freight of woes, but soft
On patient, swelling breast upborne,
Waftest the dismal burthen on,
As trusting in the love that waits aloft,
And the slow germ of good in man's unquiet heart.
Ah, meagre happiness, and hopes that reach
To some dull dream, a vapor of the sense,
And on the plain of the old Permanence
Are but as hasty flashes in the beach
Of idle footprints! O make more divine
Glad Sea, our thoughts—nor may we dully grope
'Mid slavish fears, while thou dost girth
The continents and isles with mirth,
And music of unconquerable hope
That Joy and Beauty shall be earth's as they are thine!
To some dull dream, a vapor of the sense,
And on the plain of the old Permanence
Are but as hasty flashes in the beach
Of idle footprints! O make more divine
Glad Sea, our thoughts—nor may we dully grope
'Mid slavish fears, while thou dost girth
The continents and isles with mirth,
And music of unconquerable hope
That Joy and Beauty shall be earth's as they are thine!
O old consoler, that dost tenderly
In thy great longing merge my day-born pain,
Uplift me to the stature of your strain,
And bid all lower aspiration flee!
The nobler earth is built of stubborn good—
Who brings his little vanity, his grave
Appeal to men's applause and wonder,
Warn him away with thy hoarse thunder,
Flash o'er the graven sands a liberal wave,
And let us know no more name, memory, or blood!
In thy great longing merge my day-born pain,
Uplift me to the stature of your strain,
And bid all lower aspiration flee!
The nobler earth is built of stubborn good—
Who brings his little vanity, his grave
Appeal to men's applause and wonder,
Warn him away with thy hoarse thunder,
Flash o'er the graven sands a liberal wave,
And let us know no more name, memory, or blood!
And call the regal shadows, 'mid the roar
Of charging waves, the tumult and the smoke,—
That fine old Grecian in his threadbare cloak;
The banner pastor by blue Zurich, o'er
Whose vine-clad summits Alps looked not in vain;
England's blind seer; Toussaint, the kingly heart
Wearing his thrice-earned martyr crown;
And all who silently let down
The rugged slopes whereon we toss apart
Some herald-beam of the All-Fair, some love-bought pain.
Of charging waves, the tumult and the smoke,—
That fine old Grecian in his threadbare cloak;
The banner pastor by blue Zurich, o'er
Whose vine-clad summits Alps looked not in vain;
England's blind seer; Toussaint, the kingly heart
Wearing his thrice-earned martyr crown;
And all who silently let down
The rugged slopes whereon we toss apart
Some herald-beam of the All-Fair, some love-bought pain.
Yet milder beams wooing the folded sight,
Shed warmth far down in many a sunless nook:
Thank God, there are no eyes in which we look
But some heart's love doth lend them beauteous light!
Dreams that prefigure hopes, and hopes that take
Fresh courage from all life; from starlight bold
Sung softly in by whip-poor-wills,
And sunset's broad'ning sails o'er hills
Afar; and from the earth that grows not old,
Float lightly o'er our heads whether we sleep or wake.
Shed warmth far down in many a sunless nook:
Thank God, there are no eyes in which we look
But some heart's love doth lend them beauteous light!
Dreams that prefigure hopes, and hopes that take
Fresh courage from all life; from starlight bold
Sung softly in by whip-poor-wills,
And sunset's broad'ning sails o'er hills
Afar; and from the earth that grows not old,
Float lightly o'er our heads whether we sleep or wake.
Alas! to her high place thro' sea-deep tears,
Earth wins her long, slow, agonizing way!
The base, triumphant Despot of a day
Is weary Anarch of a thousand years.
And yet this many a spring the boughs are sheen
With the almost forgotten bloom! Call, Sea,
Unto all faithful souls, Doubt not,
Aspire to lead earth's struggling thought
Still up, bring what from full hearts gushes free,
He who doth blend and shape the whole finds nothing mean.
Earth wins her long, slow, agonizing way!
The base, triumphant Despot of a day
Is weary Anarch of a thousand years.
And yet this many a spring the boughs are sheen
With the almost forgotten bloom! Call, Sea,
Unto all faithful souls, Doubt not,
Aspire to lead earth's struggling thought
Still up, bring what from full hearts gushes free,
He who doth blend and shape the whole finds nothing mean.
When morning, loosing from its crimson drifts,
Some panting skylark overtakes, most tender
Of such weak rivalship, and prone to render
Homage unto great-heartedness, it lifts
The breaking strain, and all along its lines
Of thrilling light, its currents of pure air
And rosy mists, winds it at will,
Unites and separates, and still
Wreathes it and builds anew beyond despair,
Till light is song, song light thro' all heaven's steadfast
Some panting skylark overtakes, most tender
Of such weak rivalship, and prone to render
Homage unto great-heartedness, it lifts
The breaking strain, and all along its lines
Of thrilling light, its currents of pure air
And rosy mists, winds it at will,
Unites and separates, and still
Wreathes it and builds anew beyond despair,
Till light is song, song light thro' all heaven's steadfast
O know how all things change! Night's violet star
Bloomed red erewhile; and thou, Sea, wearest away
The glorious realm of a forgotten day,
But lay'st the pillars of a fairer far
Deep in thy caverned-bed; for all that ever
Gathered about it men's delight or love,
Or aught that simply blooms, or strives
To make more beautiful our lives,
In each new fabric of the world, is wove
Afresh, and changes like the light, but passes never.
Bloomed red erewhile; and thou, Sea, wearest away
The glorious realm of a forgotten day,
But lay'st the pillars of a fairer far
Deep in thy caverned-bed; for all that ever
Gathered about it men's delight or love,
Or aught that simply blooms, or strives
To make more beautiful our lives,
In each new fabric of the world, is wove
Afresh, and changes like the light, but passes never.