University of Virginia Library

“Was Thy Wrath against the Sea?”

The sea laments with unappeasable
Hankering wail of loss,
Lifting its hands on high and passing by
Out of the lovely light:

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No foambow any more may crest that swell
Of clamorous waves which toss;
Lifting its hands on high it passes by
From light into the night.
Peace, peace, thou sea! God's wisdom worketh well,
Assigns it crown or cross:
Lift we all hands on high, and passing by
Attest: God doeth right.