Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/138

134 And then the deaf and sullen surge Sweeps on, and all is o'er.

We give thee earnest charge, Oh sad, and solemn deep, Safe in thy cold and strong embrace This precious form to keep;

Till at the trumpet's sound, Which fills the world with dread, Thy caverns, and the graves of earth Shall render up their dead:

Then clothed in glorious light, May this our friend arise, And change thy dark, imprisoning cell, For freedom in the skies.