A Treasury of South African Poetry and Verse/Thistle
TO THE SEA.
O! thou wild, tempestuous ocean,
Well communes my heart with thee,
In the ever-ceaseless motion,
In the changing hues I see:
How I love thee,
Emblem of the soul to me:
In thy restless, anxious tossing,
In thy struggles to be free,
Doth my spirit, vext with crossing,
Boundless ocean, beat with thee;
Ever varying,
How our fitful moods agree:
Dashing o'er the rocks opposing,
Lashing with thy wave the shore;
Now in gentle calm reposing,
Now convulsed with anger o'er;
How I love thee,
Nearer, dearer than before.
Now I know the ebb and flowing,
Sunny morn and low'ring eve;
Know the coming and the going,
How to joy, and how to grieve:
In my knowing,
Ocean, thou too canst believe.
To the murmur of thy sadness
Breathes my heart a kindred sigh;
Thy serenity of gladness
Knew I too in days gone by.
Yes, I love thee
With a strange intensity.
Salt thy brine, but teardrops salter
Flow to mingle with thy tide;
Burning thoughts from lips that falter,
As I wander by thy side,
I can tell thee;
Tell to thee, and none beside.
Art thou ruthless in destroying?
Time is yet a wilder sea;
With our hopes of youthhood toying,
Scatt'ring all with careless glee;
Till he leaves us
Wrecks of what we used to be.
Yet the flower of hope is blooming
On one rock above the spray,
All the distant East illuming,
Glows the promise of the day;
Time's dark ocean
Lit with an eternal ray.