Henry Ellison (1811–1880)

HERE sit I, like some god of the old prime,

Just wakened into divine consciousness;

Like Neptune, when his great hand did caress

The Ocean’s mane first, at the dawn of Time,

Ere his dread name had passed into a rhyme!

Here sit I, while the sea with wavy stress

And emphasis, and utterance nothing less

Than epic, lends a voice to thoughts sublime!

Here sit I, musing upon things to come

Beyond all reach of mortal eloquence;

Till, unto that which had but struck me dumb,

The great Sea, giving articulate sound and sense,

Sublimes the mighty but confuséd hum

Into a voice as of Omnipotence!