George Willis Cooke, comp. The Poets of Transcendentalism: An Anthology. 1903.
The OceanChristopher Pearse Cranch (18131892)
T
Spirits bathing in the sea
Of Deity!
Half afloat, and half on land,
Wishing much to leave the strand,
Standing, gazing with devotion,
Yet afraid to trust the ocean,—
Such are we.
To enjoy the wave’s caress;
Wanting faith and heavenly hope,
Buoyantly to bear us up;
Yet impatient in our dwelling,
When we hear the ocean swelling,
And in every wave that rolls
We behold the happy souls
Peacefully, triumphantly
Swimming on the smiling sea,
Then we linger round the shore,
Lovers of the earth no more.
We were drifted by this sea
To the coast of human birth,
To this body and this earth;
Gentle were the hands that bore
Our young spirits to the shore;
Gentle lips that bade us look
Outward from our cradle-nook
To the spirit-bearing ocean
With such wonder and devotion,
As, each stilly Sabbath day
We were led a little way,
Where we saw the waters swell
Far away from inland dell,
And received with grave delight
Symbols of the Infinite:—
Then our home was near the sea;
“Heaven was round our infancy;”—
Night and day we heard the waves
Murmuring by us to their caves;—
Floated in unconscious life
With no later doubts at strife,
Trustful of th’ Upholding Power,
Who sustained us hour by hour.
Dwellers by the sea no more;
Yet at times there comes a tone
Telling of the visions flown,
Soundings from the distant sea
Where we left our purity:
Distant glimpses of the surge
Lure us down to ocean’s verge;
There we stand with vague distress
Yearning for the measureless,
By half-wakened instincts driven,
Half loving earth, half loving heaven,
Fearing to put off and swim,
Yet impelled to turn to Him,
In whose life we live and move,
And whose very name is Love.
To become indeed thy son,
And in thee, thou Parent-Sea,
Live and love eternally.