Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume V. Nature. 1904. | | | | VII. The Sea | | The Sea | | Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) |
| | | BEHOLD the Sea, | |
| The opaline, the plentiful and strong, | |
| Yet beautiful as is the rose in June, | |
| Fresh as the trickling rainbow of July: | |
| Sea full of food, the nourisher of kinds, | 5 |
| Purger of earth, and medicine of men; | |
| Creating a sweet climate by my breath, | |
| Washing out harms and griefs from memory, | |
| And, in my mathematic ebb and flow, | |
| Giving a hint of that which changes not. | 10 |
| Rich are the sea-gods:—who gives gifts but they? | |
| They grope the sea for pearls, but more than pearls: | |
| They pluck Force thence, and give it to the wise. | |
| For every wave is wealth to Dædalus, | |
| Wealth to the cunning artist who can work | 15 |
| This matchless strength. Where shall he find, O waves! | |
| A load your Atlas shoulders cannot lift? | |
| I with my hammer pounding evermore | |
| The rocky coast, smite Andes into dust, | |
| Strewing my bed, and, in another age, | 20 |
| Rebuild a continent of better men. | |
| Then I unbar the doors: my paths lead out | |
| The exodus of nations: I disperse | |
| Men to all shores that front the hoary main. | | | | |
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