Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 18071882
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow66 Seaweed
W
The gigantic
Storm-wind of the equinox,
Landward in his wrath he scourges
The toiling surges,
Laden with seaweed from the rocks:
Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing, Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas;— On the shifting Currents of the restless main; Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again. Strike the ocean Of the poet’s soul, erelong From each cave and rocky fastness, In its vastness, Floats some fragment of a song: Heaven has planted With the golden fruit of Truth; From the flashing surf, whose vision Gleams Elysian In the tropic clime of Youth; That forever Wrestle with the tides of Fate; From the wreck of Hopes far-scattered, Tempest-shattered, Floating waste and desolate;— On the shifting Currents of the restless heart; Till at length in books recorded, They, like hoarded Household words, no more depart.