141 . Ocean

UNSTABLE monster, formless, vast, alone,

How awful in thy giant impotence!

Canst thou not—now—uprear that bulk immense

And make a captured continent thy throne?

Why surging round this planet’s narrow zone

Pursue a star with tireless vehemence,

Yet falter at the feeblest shore’s defence

And crawl into thyself and moan and moan?

We happier mortals when our flood-tide ’s o’er

Shall ebb into the dust and there no more

Be vext with earthly harassment; whilst thou,

Unquiet Ocean, thou shalt neither rest

Nor shalt accomplish thine eternal quest,

But moan and moan—as thou art moaning now!