The Ocean, at the bidding of the Moon, For ever changes with his restless tide; Flung shoreward now, to be regather'd soon With kingly pauses of reluctant pride, And semblance of return. Anon from home He issues forth again, high ridged and free; The gentlest murmur of his seething foam, Like armies whispering where great echoes be! Oh! leave me here upon this beach to rove, Mute listener to that sound so grand and lone - A glorious sound, deep-drawn and strongly thrown, And reaching those on mountain heights above; To British ears, as who shall scorn to own, A tutelar fond voice, a saviour-tone of love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN OF LOVE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE HOSTESS' DAUGHTER by JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND AUTUMN MESSAGES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) PSALM 91 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 34 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH FILIPPO BALDINUCCI ON THE PRIVILEGE OF BURIAL by ROBERT BROWNING |