142 . After the Storm

AS children vex a lion in his cage

Themselves secure, the doorway barred and locked,

So, Ocean! have I railed at thee, have mocked

With gibe and jeer thine ineffectual rage.

Ah, I was wrong! All those in every age

Who, weeping, at their prison-bars have knocked

I heard again when this huge bastion rocked

Before thee; and I learned their parentage.

And now thou’rt spent. No more a giant’s hand

Buffets the sounding rocks, but piteously

Thou rangest the low shore with feeble fret.

O God, it wellnigh breaks my heart to see

Those foamy fingers plucking at the strand

Like a sick woman’s at her coverlet!