SUBLIME is thy prospect, thou proud rolling Ocean, And Fancy surveys thee with solemn delight; When thy mountainous billows are wild in commotion, And the tempest is roused by the spirits of night. When the moonbeams through winter-clouds faintly appearing, At intervals gleam on the dark-swelling wave; And the mariner, dubious, now hoping, now fearing, May hear the stern Genius of hurricanes rave. But now, when thine anger has long been subsiding, And the tempest has folded the might of its wing; How clear is thy surface, in loveliness gliding, For April has opened the portals of spring. Now soft on thy bosom the orient is beaming, And tremulous breezes are waving thy breast; On thy mirror the clouds and the shadows are streaming, And morning and glory the picture have drest. No gale but the balmy Favonian is blowing, In coral caves resting, the winds are asleep; And, rich in the sunbeam, yon pendants are glowing, That tinge with their colours the silvery deep. Yet smile or be dreadful, thou still-changing Ocean, Tremendous or lovely, resistless or still; I view thee adoring, with hallowed emotion, The Power that can hush or arouse thee at will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE INGENUES by PAUL VERLAINE DEAD COW FARM by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE AGED STRANGER; AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR by FRANCIS BRET HARTE TO LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD, WITH MR. DONNE'S SATIRES by BEN JONSON JUDGE NOT by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER LINES FOR THE HOUR by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG ON SEEING AN OFFICER'S WIDOW DISTRACTED - ARREARS OF PENSION by MARY BARBER |