:The spacious Sea for his rich store

Of coloured weeds that shine in vain

Upon the wide inhuman floor,

The lonely yard where drowned men lie

And gaze through water to white sky.

Forgive, thou calm and godlike shade,

The drooping wreath, the flowers that fade,

This passionless pale offering

From one who scarcely dares to sing

His love and praises, being afraid

At the sweet brilliance of thy spring,

Seeing his lute is rudely made,

His thoughts too dull and weak of wing,

More fit for noons that lull and warm

Than for the stress of fire and storm.

The slender boat that stretched her sail

To fly before the sultry gale,

That from her moorings leapt and sped

Before the forest leaves were red,

Before the purple noon was pale,