On The Sea Wall

I sit upon the old sea wall,     And watch the shimmering sea,     Where soft and white the moonbeams fall,     Till, in a fantasy,     Some pure white maiden's funeral pall     The strange light seems to me.     The waters break upon the shore     And shiver at my feet,     While I dream old dreams o'er and o'er,     And dim old scenes repeat;     Tho' all have dreamed the same before,     They still seem new and sweet.     The waves still sing the same old song     That knew an elder time;     The breakers' beat is not more strong,     Their music more sublime;     And poets thro' the ages long     Have set these notes to rhyme.     But this shall not deter my lyre,     Nor check my simple strain;     If I have not the old-time fire,     I know the ancient pain:     The hurt of unfulfilled desire,--     The ember quenched by rain.     I know the softly shining sea     That rolls this gentle swell     Has snarled and licked its tongues at me     And bared its fangs as well;     That 'neath its smile so heavenly,     There lurks the scowl of hell!     But what of that? I strike my string     (For songs in youth are sweet);     I 'll wait and hear the waters bring     Their loud resounding beat;     Then, in her own bold numbers sing     The Ocean's dear deceit!