Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Thalassa! O Thalassa! (Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan)

p.188

1
  1. Can you see the spine of yonder crest
    Curved o'er the hillside lea?
    Well, there the sun halts as he creeps to rest;
    And beyond is the sea.
    And beyond is the sea! Have you seen the sea?
    Never! Dear Lord, you were never born, —
    Never seen the sea, and its mystery,
    And the gates of the Night and the Morn!
  2. Ay, I have seen it, and memory
    (For I was not always blind)
    Paints on my darkened eyes the sea;
    Here hath my God been kind.
    Here hath my God been kind, for a wish
    Summons the magic view,
    And my ears lean down to the thunder and swish,
    And the scream of the wild sea-mew.
  3. Over the breakers that curl and toss
    Their manes as they sweep along,
    Till the foam of their crests is a silken floss
    Green valleys among;
    Green valleys among the white gull flits,
    And his strong grey pinion dips,
    And rocked on the breakers the diver sits,
    The spume of the sea on his lips.
  4. Do I dream, or is that the music of life
    That bids me look up and rejoice?
    For Nature's at best is a silent strife.
    Yet she needs a voice.
    She needs a voice, else why does she draw
    The bolts of the caverned wind.
    And let him sweep on, without leash or law,
    Trailing her seas behind?

    5. p.189

  5. Hark! to the thunder that shakes the ground,
    Where the speckled sand-larks flee;
    Were I dead, my heart would leap at the sound
    And the scents of the sea.
    And the scents of the sea, borne inland afar
    Over the gorse and the heath.
    My soul would leap through the gates ajar,
    And the grey, grim portals of death.
  6. Can you see aught yet? ‘Nought yet!’ Look afar,
    For the sea is alive and strong;
    'Nought but the spray of one bright star
    Its peers among.
    Its peers among, and set in the curve
    Where the sun sinks to rest;
    And a long, long line with never a swerve
    From the East to the West.'
  7. You must be deceived, for the sounds and the scents
    Of the great baptismal wave,
    Poured from the Godhead's affluence,
    My senses lave.
    My senses lave. If mine eyes are blind,
    My veins are filled as with wine,
    My hair is teased by the salt sea wind.
    And my lips are kissed with his brine.
  8. Look again and long, for I feel as a friend
    Hath his hand locked in mine;
    Look long, where the shadows gather and blend
    At the day's decline.
    'At the day's decline, vast meadows are green,
    White swallows over them flee;'
    Child, O my Child, thine eyes are keen!
    Meadows? Why, that's the sea.
    9. P. A. SHEEHAN