Classic Poem

Outside, a sweep of waves and winds that roar
Beneath storm-threatened skies,
But here, a harbour sheltered by a shore
That circles crescent wise
Like some young moon that left its aerial lands
To shape and spill its silver on these sands.

I stand and watch the line of liquid blue
Where skies and waters meet
The long green waves that crowd the nearer view
And break about my feet.
The waters lift and heave, then drop away
Beaten and breathless, sweeping up the bay.

And all the wonder of this wind-swept sea,
And its tempestuous sky,
Its hidden past, its unknown history,
Its centuries gone by—
Rise and proclaim the Infinite, until
The doubt within my heart grows hushed—then still.