I looked across the rollers of the deep,
Long land-swells, ropes of weed, and riding foam,
With bitter angry heart: did I not roam
Ever like these? And what availeth sleep?
Or wakefulness? or pain? And still the sea
Rustled and sang, " Alike! and one to me! "
Ay! once I trod these shores too happily,
Murmuring my gladness to the rocks and ground
And, while the wave broke loud on ledge and reef,
Whispered it in the pause, like one who tells
His heart's dream and delight! And still the sea
Went back and forth upon its bar of shells,
Washed and withdrew, with a soft shaling sound,
As though the wet were dry and joy were grief.