Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/70

Rh

, glorious Ocean! In thy calm repose Majestic like a king. The emerald isles Sleep on thy breast, as though with matron care Thou in a robe of light didst cradle them, Hushing the gales that might disturb their rest. Those chastened waves that in rotation throng To kiss their chain of sand, methinks they seem Like pensive teachers, or like eloquent types Of the brief tenure of terrestrial joy. Though roused to sudden anger, thou dost change Thy countenance, and armed with terror, toss Man's floating castles to the fiery skies: Yet still thou art his friend. Thy mystic spell Looseneth the tie of kindred, lures his feet From earth's green pastures to the slippery shrouds, Weans his bold spirit from the parent hearth, Till by the rough and perilous baptism bronzed, Thou art his priest, his home. With toil and change Creation labours. Streams their beds forsake, Strong mountains moulder—the eternal hills Leap from their firm foundations—planets fall; But age thy fearful forehead furroweth not. Earth's bosom bleeds beneath her warring sons, The tempest scathes her with a foot of flame, And her bloom withers; but what eye may trace Where haughtiest navies poured their hostile wrath