I thought of death beside the lonely sea, That went beyond the limit of my sight, Seeming the image of his mastery, The semblance of his huge and gloomy might. But firm beneath the sea went the great earth, With sober bulk and adamantine hold, The water but a mantle for her girth, That played about her splendour fold on fold. And life seemed like this dear familiar shore, That stretched from the wet sands’ last wavy crease, Beneath the sea’s remote and sombre roar, To inland stillness and the wilds of peace. Death seems triumphant only here and there; Life is the sovereign presence everywhere. |