Classic Poem

Thou lurest, ocean grey:
How thy white waves roll in. Dim, clouded sky,
Break over me; eternal blue come forth!
Dame Nature calls and ballad-voice of Spring;
Sweet mistress, mother of the life of man,
And gentle maid who dost the world renew,
Behold, I come! A hundred stars unveil,
The clouds have vanish'd, the supernal vault,
A glass of vision and of ecstasy,
Its burnish'd surface spreads. The Moon therein
Doth, like a spirit from the seering glass,
In light pass off; and here, like angel's wings,
The winds of night among the ancient trees —
Thy trees, O God — pass in a storm of sound.