THE sun is warm the sky is clear

    The waves are dancing fast and bright

    Blue isles¹ and snowy mountains wear

    The purple noon's transparent² might：

    The breath of the moist earth is light

    Around its unexpanded buds；

    Like many a voice of one delight—

    The winds' the birds' the ocean-floods'—

    The city's voice itself is soft like solitude's.

    I see the deep's untrampled floor

    With green and purple seaweeds strown；

    I see the waves upon the shore

    Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown.

    I sit upon the sands alone；

    The lightning of the noontide ocean

    Is flashing round me and a tone

    Arises from its measured motion—

    How sweet did any heart now share in my emotion！

    Alas³！ I have nor hope nor health

    Nor peace within nor calm around；

    Nor that content surpassing wealth

    The sage⁴ in meditation⁵ found

    And walk'd with inward glory crown'd；

    Nor fame nor power nor love nor leisure.

    Others I see whom these surround—

    Smiling they live and call life pleasure：

    To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

    Yet now despair itself is mild

    Even as the winds and waters are；

    I could lie down like a tired child

    And weep away the life of care

    Which I have borne and yet must bear —

    Till death like sleep might steal on me

    And I might feel in the warm air

    My cheek grow cold and hear the sea

    Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.

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