Poem By; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807-1882
The sound of the sea
The sea awoke at midnight from it's sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
Or roar of winds upon awooded steep. So comes to us at times,from the unknown And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea -tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine forshadowing and forseeing of things beyon our reason or control
The sound of the sea
The sea awoke at midnight from it's sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
Or roar of winds upon awooded steep. So comes to us at times,from the unknown And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea -tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine forshadowing and forseeing of things beyon our reason or control