Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin--his control Stops with the shore.

And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like shy bubbles, onward; from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers. . . . . And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow, Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

The image of Eternity--the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider.