Classic Poem

Gently dashing,
Softly plashing,
Myriad-crested,
Milky-breasted
Sea;—
Thou repeatest
All the music of the ages,
All the wisdom of the sages,
In thy roll;
And thou greetest
With the fashion
Of thy lapping on the lea,
With the thunder thou art pealing,
Every passion,
Every feeling,
All that rages
In each living human soul.

Mighty forest
On the mountains,
In thy teeming
Life thou storest
All the wonder
Of the race;—
In thy fountains,
In the thunder
Of thy torrent,
In its roaring,
Man finds warrant
For his warring;
In the rustling of thy branches
Finds he chances
For his dreaming,
And sees comfort face to face.