Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/98

 Shape from the steadfast shore that rules it round, And only from the storms a casual sound: The sea, that harbours in her heart sublime The supreme heart of music deep as time, And in her spirit strong The spirit of all imaginable song.

Not a whisper or lisp from the waters: the skies were not silenter. Peace Was between them; a passionless rapture of respite as soft as release. Not a sound, but a sense that possessed and pervaded with patient delight The soul and the body, clothed round with the comfort of limitless night. Night infinite, living, adorable, loved of the land and the sea: Night, mother of mercies, who saith to the spirits in prison, Be free.