Hail , royal ocean! in thy presence-chamber
Arrived, I feel thy deep abounding life
Transfused into my blood, replenishing
My dwindling store; alone, and at thy feet,
Dear as are human hearts, I am at home!
Sheltered within a cleft of the tall crag,
Granite of many delicate tints, I hear
The wind's vast voice make chorus with the sea's,
Broken upon grim, dark rock-teeth below,
Ruins of the mainland; neighbouring which the shoals
Are green as beryl, wine-stained with the weed
Of stone submerged; one wrinkled indigo
Watery wastes aloof from shore, inlaid

Sigh, O thin sigh, through
what crack have you entered?
With a sliding screen,
a thin-framed screen, and
other sliding doors,
a hinge on the sidepost, and,
on the door, a latch fastened with a
clang, a lock, fastened firmly, of
dragon and turtle design,
a hinged screen folded with a
clatter, a scroll rolled
tightly up, through what
crack could you have entered?
Somehow, on nights when
you come, I cannot sleep.

You mistake me, Madame, I ask for nothing.
I give arrogantly and with indifference.
These are no wall-fruits, soft and sugary, I offer you,
But dragon-berries,
Burnt black with their own fire,
Grown on brambles in the Courts of Destiny.
You may refuse them if you please,
Since choice is not denied you.
Then you will be lone as a rattling leaf
On an upland oak-tree,
Flinging its single shadow
Across a treeless snow.

What a great battle you and I have fought!
A fight of sticks and whips and swords,
A one-armed combat,
For each held the left hand pressed close to the heart,
To save the caskets from assault.

How tenderly we guarded them;
I would keep mine and still have yours,
And you held fast to yours and coveted mine.
Could we have dropt the caskets
We would have thrown down weapons
And been at each other like apes,
Scratching, biting, hugging
In exasperation.

What a fight!
Thank God that I was strong as you,

Withering all
in its roar
across the fields
comes an evening storm—
and above,
carried on its winds:
You clouds!
You driven leaves!

Youthful friends here a circle form,
Elder foes now surrender.
Feel among us in safety, warm,
Toward you our hearts are tender.
Once again on a hard-fought day
Hero-like you have led the way,
Smiting all that before you stood;—
But now be good!

With no hubbub, without champagne,
Dress-suit, and party-collar,
We would honor o'er viands plain
Grateful our “grand old scholar”!
When all quiet are wind and wave,
Seldom we see this pilot brave;—
When storm-surges our ship might whelm,
He takes the helm!

When Britain, with envy and malice inflamed,
Dared dispute the dear rights of Columbia's bless'd union,
We thought of the time when our freedom we claim'd,
And fought 'gainst oppression with fullest communion.
Our foes on the ocean have been forced to yield,
And fresh laurels we now gather up in the field.

Freedom's flag on the wilds of the west is unfurl'd,
And our foes seem to find their resistance delusion;
For our eagle her arrows amongst them has hurl'd
And their ranks of bold veterans fill'd with confusion.
Our foes on the ocean, etc.

O crimson salamander,
Because of love's whim
sacred!
Swim
the winding flame
Predestined to disman him
And bring our fellow home to us again.
Swim in with watery fang,
Gnaw out and drown
The fire roots that circle him
Until the Hell-flower dies down
And he comes home again.

Aye, bring him home,
O crimson salamander,
That I may see he is unchanged with burning—
Then have your will with him,
O crimson salamander.

O well for him whose will is strong!
He suffers, but he will not suffer long;
He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong;
For him nor moves the loud world's random mock,
Nor all Calamity's hugest waves confound,
Who seems a promontory of rock,
That, compassed round with turbulent sound,
In middle ocean meets the surging shock,
Tempest-buffeted, citadel-crowned.

The work to which his hands were set
Went down with scorn and jeers;
His look grew deeper: “Even yet
We 'll build—beyond the years.”

The vision that his faith had wrought,
Touched by the blight that sears,
Fell shattered. But he said: “My thought
Will live—beyond the years.”

The dream that in his heart had rest
Wrought bitterness and tears.
His eyes grew tender: “Now, the quest;
Then joy—beyond the years.”

He smiled to know his strength was gone.
His eyes among the spheres
Saw strength and beauty at the dawn—