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Nor less, vast winds that sway the waters, hear
Like gracious charge celestial. Launch, then, forth
Adventurous, and behold how God has spread
The ocean out, and bad the gales there ope
The high-way of the nations.

Boasts, then, Earth
Her fixed state? and, gazing, proudly round
On the eternal hills, exclaims, “Oh, Man!
“Here rest: on my stability repose!
“Fulfil thy destiny here, where sleep thy sires,
“Each in his native soil! Oh, stay: Content,
“That met thee yester-morn, and to still vales
“Led thee at eve, shall it not greet with smiles
“Thy morrow as this day, and link in one,
“Age and the stripling prime? Rest here, nor dread
“The coming hour: enough, that God has fix'd
“Seed-time, and harvest. Let the mariner,
“At night-watch, with the many-shadow'd clouds,
“Hold question of the obscure and doubtful sign:
“And hear them, as endow'd with many tongues,
“Give answer. Let him commune with each star
“That cast its beam on th' billow, or pale moon
“That toils thro' sullen skies, or streaks of fire,
“Which, when sad eve the clouded welkin cross'd,
“Spake of near tempest. Recks it thee, what Night
“Says of the Morn? if fair, tell out thy flock
“On th' upland brow, and number their increase;
“Or hie to rural work, in sun or shade,
“Green forest, or the bean-field breathing sweats:
“Or, of thy toil make pastime, in the press
“Of labour thro' the sultry harvest moon.
“If tempests threaten, let the bleak storm burst:
“Holds not thy cot firm station upon earth?
“Falls not the slumberous rain-drop from thy eaves,
“While on the breast of love the brow of toil
“Lies sweetly pillow'd. There repose in peace
“Unquestion'd, while the song that lulls thy rest
“Dwells on the distant shipwreck, and vex'd men
“That with mad seas wage warfare.”

Cease!—Have heart,
Brave mariner! and let their night-song close
On shipwreck and sea-farers! Steer thou on!
Traverse the watery world! from clime to clime
Pour forth on each the gifts of all, and link
Mankind in bonds of love: diffuse the light
Of science, teach the savage arts unknown,
And o'er the nations and lone isles bring down
The day-spring of Salvation.—Therefore, God
Spake to the winds an ordinance, and gave
The sun his station. Does the orb of day
Light up the eastern flood? the sea-breeze knows
Its harbinger, and ocean flows beneath
His beam, on progress: other winds, meantime,
Each in due season, slope from either pole
Their currents sunward. Lo! the Lord of Day
Drives up the northern signs: earth gladly drinks
His radiance, and the Pole that long lay hid
In gloom, unvisited of gladsome beam,
Forgets the darkness, while the broad bright disc,
Month after month, day ever without night,
Rolls round his brow reposeless. And the wings
Of mighty winds that bear his chariot, range
Beyond their former bounds: and sweeping on
South-eastward, half the year, athwart the sea
Of Araby, to shores where Gama found
Enthron'd the Zamorin; or round the Cape
By Taprobana, guide the vessel on
To Ganges, and the golden Chersonese:—
Or, further, past Sumatra, and the gulf
Of Siam, turn the prow, where foreign masts
Crowd in the Bocca-Tigris.—In old times
When they of Ishmael, who, on journey, came
From Gilead with their camels, bearing spice
To Egypt, balm and myrrh, and bought him, slave,
Whom visions of the Almighty preordain'd
For glory: and, in later times, o'erland,
When traffickers, 'mid deserts, drave their march
To Tadmor, and beheld, o'er pillar'd heights
That tow'r'd afar, like high-embowed woods,
The sun's proud temple soaring, serv'd not then,
As now, th' Etesian gale, and one its voice
Delightful heard on ocean?

“Hither come,
“Ye nations! for your fleets the billow flows
“Expectant: leave the land, 'tis tedious toil,
“Rude is the pathless mountain, and yon wastes
“Unfreshen'd by a rill: fly the wing'd sands
“That wait you, and wild Arab, eagle-ey'd,
“Loose from the bond, and brotherhood of Man!