  Last night the ocean's moan Was to my ears The deep sad undertone Of vanished years, Bearing a burden, A bliss unattained, A strife and a longing, A life sad and pained, To the shores vast and free Of eternity's sea. But in that undertone Of restless pain, Came at length a monotone Of sweet refrain, Bearing a passion Long known to the sea— Told in moments of silence A sad heart to free— To be borne me some day In the ocean's own way. And this rare monotone Of mystery Was now that passion-moan Of secrecy, Bearing, "I love her, My moaning ne'er'll cease Till she on my breast Findeth love's perfect peace; Till she on my breast Findeth love's perfect rest." Oh, is there tenderer tone For mortal ear, Distinct and clear, Bearing its comfort, Its heavenly peace, Its help for all sorrow, Its heart-pain release, To a soul waiting long For love's tender, true song? And now the ocean's moan Is to my ears The dearest undertone Of all the years, Bearing a memory, A sweet bliss attained, A gratified longing, A life's joys regained, To the shores vast and free Of eternity's sea. Boar's Head, Hampton, N.H. |
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