A vision how fair, how blest!

 I stooped to the hoary wave That wept on the darkening shore. It sobbed to me: "Oh, be brave! Whatever you do, or dare, or will, Like me to go striving, unresting still." 

I stooped to the hoary wave

That wept on the darkening shore.

It sobbed to me: "Oh, be brave!

 

 

 STRANDED. 

 O busy ships! that smile in sailing In a glory Like a dream, From the colors of the harbor to the colors of the sea. In singing words or in bewailing, Tell the story As you gleam, Tell the story, guess the language of my idle hours for me. 

In a glory

Like a dream,

Tell the story

As you gleam,

 O busy waves! so blest in bruising Your white faces On the shore. So happy to be wasted with the purpose of the sea, Content to leave with it the choosing Of your places Evermore, Whisper but the far sea-meaning of my stranded life for me. 

Your white faces

On the shore.

Of your places

Evermore,

 Gray the sails grow in departing Like fleet swallows To the South. Stern the tide turns in its parting, As it follows With dumb mouth. In the stillness and the sternness God makes answer unto me. 

Like fleet swallows

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