274
LINES.
NCE more, my love, once more,We wander by the waves,
And listen to old ocean's roar,
Re-echoed from his caves.
That music of the deep,
Chimes fitful as of yore,—
Now gentle as an infant's sleep,
Now thundering on the shore.
Chimes fitful as of yore,—
Now gentle as an infant's sleep,
Now thundering on the shore.
Dost thou not feel the sound,
Like some familiar strain,
Can make the manly heart rebound,
With childhood's joy again?
Like some familiar strain,
Can make the manly heart rebound,
With childhood's joy again?
The voices of long years,
All gathered to their graves,—
The dreams of youth, its hopes and fears,
Speak in those breaking waves.
All gathered to their graves,—
The dreams of youth, its hopes and fears,
Speak in those breaking waves.
Yet now, to me, that voice
Of ocean seems to say,
That fain with us he would rejoice,
Upon this happy day.
Of ocean seems to say,
That fain with us he would rejoice,
Upon this happy day.
