Last night the ocean's moan
Was to my ears
The deep sad undertone
Of vanished years,
Bearing a burden,
A bliss unattained,
A strife and a longing,
A life sad and pained,
To the shores vast and free
Of eternity's sea.
But in that undertone
Of restless pain,
Came at length a monotone
Of sweet refrain,
Bearing a passion
Long known to the sea—
Told in moments of silence
A sad heart to free—
To be borne me some day
In the ocean's own way.
And this rare monotone
Of mystery
Was now that passion-moan
Of secrecy,
Bearing, "I love her,
My moaning ne'er'll cease
Till she on my breast
Findeth love's perfect peace;
Till she on my breast
Findeth love's perfect rest."
Oh, is there tenderer tone
For mortal ear,
Than such a monotone,
Distinct and clear,
Bearing its comfort,
Its heavenly peace,
Its help for all sorrow,
Its heart-pain release,
To a soul waiting long
For love's tender, true song?
And now the ocean's moan
Is to my ears
The dearest undertone
Of all the years,
Bearing a memory,
A sweet bliss attained,
A gratified longing,
A life's joys regained,
To the shores vast and free
Of eternity's sea.
Boar's Head, Hampton, N.H.