Higginson and Bigelow, comps. American Sonnets. 1891.
The Sea GullEliza Allen Starr (18241901)
B
Nor leave a ripple, are thy pastimes made.
Grave sports in vast aerial circles played
From wave to cloud, from cloud to wave. No frown
On sea or sky appalls thee; and the down
On thy white breast shows glistering, in the shade
Of gathering tempests. There, with motion staid,
I see thee, where the mid-sea surges crown
The rocking billows of the awful deep,
Cradled as peacefully as if asleep.
Which, seeing, though with cheek, blanched, cold with fear,
Sudden within me Hope’s chilled pulses leap,
Since He who fashioned thee with purpose clear,
Our drifting ship, storm-tossed, can safe to harbor steer.