The Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/An Ode to Old Ocean
Songs of Nature
An Ode to Old Ocean
Old Ocean, so sublimely deep and wide,
I sit me here and watch at eventide;
In rhythmic heaving swells thy mighty breast,
While the white sails serenely ride thy crest.
Say, Ocean old, whence cam'st thou here, and when?
Or is't too much for our poor mortal ken
To know the secrets of thy early birth,
Thy wealth to mortal men, thy wealth to earth?
Wert born 'midst raging storm and darkening haze,
Ere brilliant stars on earth bestow'd their rays?
Or was it when His Spirit spake in might
The fiat of all time—"Let there be light?"
Tell me, who gave to thee thy endless fate,
To lave the shores of nations far and great,
Where humble serf and sceptre-bearing King
Enjoy alike the boons thy vessels bring?
Old Ocean, in thy waters deep and green
Lie mystic caves no mortal yet hath seen;
And buried wealth in ships and mines of gold,
And, too, the buried hopes of young and old!
Enrapt, I gaze across thy pulsing sheen,
While lulled in depths beneath repose serene
Those that we loved of yore, and knew so well;
Their tombs, alas, attend thy mystic swell!
Mysterious ocean, dark, and wide and deep!
Could we but know the tales thy billows keep!
The world of wealth thy tides eternal hold;
The ships gone down with secrets yet untold!
Upon thy face the changing ages float,
But thy deep surges chant of things remote!
I sit me here and watch at eventide;
In rhythmic heaving swells thy mighty breast,
While the white sails serenely ride thy crest.
Say, Ocean old, whence cam'st thou here, and when?
Or is't too much for our poor mortal ken
To know the secrets of thy early birth,
Thy wealth to mortal men, thy wealth to earth?
Wert born 'midst raging storm and darkening haze,
Ere brilliant stars on earth bestow'd their rays?
Or was it when His Spirit spake in might
The fiat of all time—"Let there be light?"
Tell me, who gave to thee thy endless fate,
To lave the shores of nations far and great,
Where humble serf and sceptre-bearing King
Enjoy alike the boons thy vessels bring?
Old Ocean, in thy waters deep and green
Lie mystic caves no mortal yet hath seen;
And buried wealth in ships and mines of gold,
And, too, the buried hopes of young and old!
Enrapt, I gaze across thy pulsing sheen,
While lulled in depths beneath repose serene
Those that we loved of yore, and knew so well;
Their tombs, alas, attend thy mystic swell!
Mysterious ocean, dark, and wide and deep!
Could we but know the tales thy billows keep!
The world of wealth thy tides eternal hold;
The ships gone down with secrets yet untold!
Upon thy face the changing ages float,
But thy deep surges chant of things remote!
1917