Classic Poem

Merry Ocean! Honest Ocean!
Wherefore did I fly from thee?
Thou, whatever wind came fawning,
Ever wast a friend to me:
Joy was on thy morning billows,
Quiet on thine evening wave;
In the South a world of pleasures,
In the North—at least a grave.

But amongst these sullen moorlands,
Nothing that I seek I find;
Neither hope, nor pain, nor pleasure,
Not even a tranquil mind.
Once I had a dream:—wherever
I was sailing—near or far,
I could always see it sparkle
In the distance, like a star!

But at last it faded: Helen—
Ah, why do I name her name
Even now I feel my forehead
Flushing with its ancient shame;
She it is whose falsehood bringeth
Darkness of the heart on me;
She it is whose falsehood drives me
To thy stormy arms, O Sea!

Once—no matter—I remember
I did love my father's field,
Every daisy, every berry
That the autumn hedge did yield:
But such things delight no longer;
There is change in them or me:
So, once more, I'll mate my Spirit
With the spirit of the Sea.

Come, old comrades! Hearty seamen!
Are ye not fatigued with shore?
Shall we not go forth together
One long venturous voyage more!
Come! Let 's on, where waters soothe us;
Where all winds can whistle free:
Hearts! there's nowhere shed or shelter
Like our own true home—the Sea!