Original Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XII, Issue 3969, 17 September 1881, Page 1

Original Poetry.

THE OCEAN.

Now, lushed by winda, to white foamed wratb, Now falling, as in pain, Now creeping smoothly o'er the sands, -Now bounding up ugnin ; Now washing with thy spurae-flppkfd breath, The rocks and shell; and shingle; Now rolling down unto tliy bed, With sound which must commingle Drend of tliy power, thy awful might, And respect for thine ang r, ,Wit'i honour for thy beoutcousnees, AnH most majestic grandeur*.:' How gentle has thy bosom seemed, When met t ages of love >' HaTe, on tby broad bine bosom, flown To those who absent rote ; - '■<■'» How cruel has thine anger been When, sinking in thy arms, Have thousands perisled, alas! Lured by the S:ren's ehormn.^ -— How emblemfttical of life Art thou, O! rolling eea! Its cares, its joys, its sorrows, strife, Are all enrolled in thee. Now tossing in a troubled tea, Now lifted from car sorrow, None know, though calm, in peace, to-day, How it will be to-morrow. w. c. s. ft.