The sea, the ships, and the sailors

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Página 10 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Página 12 - And backwards flew to her billowy breast, Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest; And a mother she was, and is, to me; For I was born on the open sea! The waves were white, and red the morn, In the noisy hour when I was born; And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled, And the dolphins bared their backs of gold; And never was heard such an outcry wild As welcomed to life the ocean-child!
Página 12 - I love (oh, how I love!) to ride On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide, When every mad wave drowns the moon, Or whistles aloft his tempest tune, And tells how goeth the world below, And why the south-west blasts do blow. I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more...
Página 26 - THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, And on its outer point, some miles away, The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremor of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo ! how bright, Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the...
Página 27 - A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove, It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock, But hails the mariner with words of love. "Sail on!
Página 26 - And the great ships sail outward and return, Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells, And ever joyful, as they see it burn, They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
Página 48 - Are toys to childhood dear ; Its mistletoe, with berries white, Adds mirth to Christmas cheer. And when we reach life's closing stage, Worn out with care or ill. For childhood, youth, or hoary age, Its arms are open still. But prouder yet its glories shine, When, in a nobler form, It floats upon the heaving brine, And braves the bursting storm. Or when, to aid the work of love, To some benighted clime It bears glad tidings from above, Of...
Página 12 - I've lived since then, in calm and strife, Full fifty summers a sailor's life, With wealth to spend and a power to range, But never have sought nor sighed for change ; And Death, whenever he comes to me, Shall come on the wild unbounded Sea ! BRYAN WALLER PROCTER.
Página 27 - Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same Year after year, through all the silent night Burns on for evermore that quenchless flame, Shines on that inextinguishable light...
Página 18 - No pencil has ever yet given anything like the true effect of an iceberg. In a picture, they are huge, uncouth masses, stuck in the sea, while their chief beauty and grandeur, — their slow, stately motion; the whirling of the snow about their summits, and the fearful groaning and cracking of their parts, — the picture cannot give. This is the large iceberg; while the small and distant islands, floating on the smooth sea, in the light of a clear day, look like little floating fairy isles of sapphire.

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