| ALL night by the shore. | |
| The obscure water, the long white lines of advancing foam, the rustle and thud, the panting sea-breaths, the pungent sea-smell, | |
| The great slow air moving from the distant horizon, the immense mystery of space, and the soft canopy of the clouds! | |
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| The swooning thuds go on—the drowse of ocean goes on: | |
| The long inbreaths—the short sharp outbreaths—the silence between. | 5 |
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| I am a bit of the shore: the waves feed upon me, they come pasturing over me; | |
| I am glad, O waves, that you come pasturing over me. | |
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| I am a little arm of the sea: the same tumbling swooning dream goes on—I feel the waves all around me, I spread myself through them. | |
| How delicious! I spread and spread. The waves tumble through and over me—they dash through my face and hair. | |
| The night is dark overhead: I do not see them, but I touch them and hear their gurgling laughter. | 10 |
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| The play goes on! | |
| The strange expanding indraughts go on! | |
| Suddenly I am the Ocean itself: the great soft wind creeps over my face. | |
| I am in love with the wind—I reach my lips to its kisses. | |
| How delicious! all night and ages and ages long to spread myself to the gliding wind! | 15 |
| But now (and ever) it maddens me with its touch, I arise and whirl in my bed, and sweep my arms madly along the shores. | |
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| I am not sure any more which my own particular bit of shore is; | |
| All the bays and inlets know me: I glide along in and out under the sun by the beautiful coast-line; | |
| My hair floats leagues behind me; millions together my children dash against my face; | |
| I hear what they say and am marvellously content. | 20 |
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| All night by the shore; | |
| And the sea is a sea of faces. | |
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| The long white lines come up—face after face comes and falls past me— | |
| Thud after thud. Is it pain or joy? | |
| Face after face—endless! | 25 |
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| I do not know; my sense numbs; a trance is on me— | |
| I am becoming detached! | |
| I am a bit of the shore: | |
| The waves feed upon me, they pasture all over me, my feeling is strangely concentrated at every point where they touch me; | |
| I am glad O waves that you come pasturing over me. | 30 |
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| I am detached, I disentangle myself from the shore; | |
| I have become free—I float out and mingle with the rest. | |
| The pain, the acute clinging desire, is over—I feel beings like myself all around me, I spread myself through and through them, I am merged in a sea of contact. | |
| Freedom and equality are a fact. Life and joy seem to have begun for me. | |
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| The play goes on! | 35 |
| Suddenly I am the great living Ocean itself—the awful Spirit of Immensity creeps over my face. | |
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| I am in love with it. All night and ages and ages long and for ever I pour my soul out to it in love. | |
| I spread myself out broader and broader for ever, that I may touch it and be with it everywhere. | |
| There is no end. But ever and anon it maddens me with its touch. I arise and sweep away my bounds. | |
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| I know but I do not care any longer which my own particular body is—all conditions and fortunes are mine. | 40 |
| By the ever-beautiful coast-line of human life, by all shores, in all climates and countries, by every secluded nook and inlet, | |
| Under the eye of my beloved Spirit I glide: | |
| O joy! for ever, ever, joy! | |
| I am not hurried—the whole of eternity is mine; | |
| With each one I delay, with each one I dwell—with you I dwell. | 45 |
| The warm breath of each life ascends past me; | |
| I take the thread from the fingers that are weary, and go on with the work; | |
| The secretest thoughts of all are mine, and mine are the secretest thoughts of all. | |
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| All night by the shore; | |
| And the fresh air comes blowing with the dawn. | 50 |
| The mystic night fades—but my joy fades not. | |
| I arise and cast a stone into the water (O sea of faces I cast this poem among you)—and turn landward over the rustling beach. | |
