The Sea: A Fragment

Love the ocean ! from a very child
It has been to me as a nursing breast,
Cherishing wild fancies.
I was wont to rest
Gazing upon it, when the breeze was wild,
And think that every wave reared its white arms
To grasp and chide the wind that rolled along
In fitful buffetings, chanting its hoarse song
As in stern mockery ! Such a scene had charms
For my young heart.
And when the autumn moon
Laughed o'er the waters, it was mine to trace
Her imaged form ; as if her tiring-place
Were the wave's bosom, or seeking there some boon
Of sea-god in his coral bower, she stayed,
Wronging Endymion — then the wind would cease,
And every murmur melt away in peace,